


Timeline

by perfect_plan



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst to come, Bullying, College, Drunken Kissing, Elementary School, Friendship, Growing Up, High School, M/M, Minor Character Death, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-20
Updated: 2016-06-29
Packaged: 2018-06-03 09:43:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 56,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6606055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perfect_plan/pseuds/perfect_plan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How do you handle being in love with your best friend? In Steve Rogers's case: Badly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fifth Grade

Steve sat by himself on the edge of the playground at lunch and watched the other kids play. He desperately hoped that someone would come and ask him to join in with their games but he knew they wouldn't; nobody wanted to play with the short, skinny kid with glasses and asthma _and_ who sometimes had to wear a backbrace. He drew in his sketchbook instead. He was proud of his sketchbook - it was a proper Moleskine with a hard cover and everything. He had gotten it for his birthday and tried to draw in it every day like his dad had done with his own sketchbooks.

Steve was definitely the best artist in his class. He had hoped that might make him some friends but no-one really cared. Well, except for Mr Phillips. Last year, Steve's teacher had been Mr Schmidt and he had been _the worst_ ; he hadn't liked Steve at all but Mr Phillips liked him. He kind of acted like he didn't like anyone in the class but he did really. Steve remembered the time he had gotten his grade for his project about World War Two. He had worked really hard on it, especially the art and had been a bag of nerves all morning, waiting with everyone else to get it back.

"Rogers, as always, you disappoint and annoy me," Mr Phillips had barked when he dropped Steve's project onto his desk.

Steve's heart had sunk but then he had seen the huge A+ on the cover and the neat handwriting that said _wonderful detail and breathtaking artwork_ and had looked up at Mr Phillips. He still had the same sour look on his face he always did but then he had _winked_ at Steve and moved on to the next kid.

Steve looked up from the picture of a British WW2 Spitfire he had been drawing. He was really good at drawing planes and they were one of his favorite things to sketch besides dogs. Over by the jungle gym, Brock Rumlow and Jack Rollins were arguing with Bucky Barnes about something. Steve _hated_ Brock and Jack; they picked on him a lot, especially if they were bored. Bucky Barnes didn't look like he was being picked on though because he was shouting back at them. All the girls had crushes on Bucky Barnes; he was tall and funny and had _self-esteem_. Steve had learnt that term from his report card; it had been the only bad thing on there. Well, not _bad_ exactly, but it had made his mom sad. "Steven has very low self-esteem and needs to work on his peer-to-peer skills." He wished he had self-esteem like Bucky Barnes; he didn't seem to be afraid or shy or worried about anything. Steve admired Bucky Barnes a lot but would never admit it to anyone. He had no-one to admit it to, even.

Bucky said something to Brock and marched over to the jungle gym and started to climb it. Brock and Jack began to shout and jeer and Steve watched as Bucky climbed right to the top. A group of other kids had started to gather and watch too and Steve put his pencil down. Bucky was now at the top of the jungle gym and before anyone could do anything, jumped right off of it without a moments hesitation. Kids had fallen and really hurt themselves from that gym and Steve's heart almost stopped but Bucky just hit the ground in a roll, stood up and brushed his hands off and shouted something to Brock and Jack again before walking away. The other kids all cheered and chased after Bucky, leaving Brock and Jack frowning at each other.

Steve watched him walk away with a smile on his face. Bucky Barnes was awesome.

***

A few days later, Steve tried not to cry as Gil Hodge snapped all of his pencils. He hated sitting next to Gil. He always did mean things to Steve, like the time he had ripped his math notebook for no reason or the time he had tried to take Steve's glasses but only got stopped because Mr Phillips had seen him snatch them from Steve's face.

Steve had only gone to the front of the class to get some more paper and when he came back, his pencil case was on the floor and all of his pencils were in half on the table with Gil smiling smugly all over his fat face. Steve just took his seat and put all of the pencil pieces back into his case and got back to work, ignoring Gil as best he could. He glanced over to Bucky; he was sitting next to Bobbi Morse and Steve bet he didn't snap her pencils in half. He wished he could sit next to Bucky instead.

At lunchtime, Brock and Jack followed him around the playground calling him names. He had heard them all before and just ignored them. Usually they gave up and went to bug someone else but for some reason Steve ignoring them this time made them angry and Brock shoved him while Jack tripped him up.

"You're such a loser, Rogers," Jack said and laughed when Brock kicked Steve's backpack away from him.

They eventually got bored of playing keep-away with his bag and wandered off but by that point Steve was angry and upset and...it wasn't _fair_. He wasn't a mean person but other people were mean to him all the time and he didn't know why. All he wanted was to be able to play games at lunch with the other kids and tell jokes and show them his drawings without being scared that they would ruin his sketchbook.

Steve glanced around the playground and Bucky was playing with a bunch of kids over on the grass. He made it look so easy, making friends and then keeping them. People just seemed to _like_ him. Before Steve even knew what he was doing, he marched over to the jungle gym. He put down his bag and began to climb. He didn't pay any attention to anything around him, just focused on getting to the top. He balanced on wobbly legs when he made it and looked down. It all looked different from up here. His heart was pounding in his chest but he was determined to go through with it. He carefully made his way over to the edge.

When he jumped, he heard a few kids shout in surprise and glee and he smiled. He didn't smile for long though because instead of landing and rolling like Bucky had done, Steve landed hard on his left side and felt his arm crunch beneath him. Everything went quiet and fuzzy for a little while and when he opened his eyes (had he closed them?) a group of worried looking kids were standing over him. Bucky Barnes was one of them. He knelt down when Steve blinked up at him.

"Are you okay?" he asked, genuine concern in his voice, holding Steve's glasses which thankfully hadn't broken.

"Hurts," Steve croaked.

Bucky turned and yelled at one of the other kids. "Get a teacher, quick!" and at least four of them immediately ran off. When Bucky turned to look down at Steve again, his face was an angry frown. "Why the hell did you jump off of there?"

Steve couldn't stop the tears and they came hard and fast. "I wanted to be like you."

Bucky's frown instantly turned to surprise and then Mr Phillips was pushing kids out of the way and crouching down next to Steve.

"Well, isn't this an unholy mess," he remarked after looking at and carefully touching Steve's arm. "Come on, Rogers. We need to get you to the hospital."

He helped get Steve to his feet and carefully held his arm in his big hands. Every so often, searing pain would jolt him and Steve would cry out. They got to the nurses office and Mr Phillips, who had once told them that he had been a soldier and a medic, made a sling for Steve's arm and it still hurt, but not as much. The school nurse just looked on helplessly.

"How we doing?" Mr Phillips asked him when the nurse, on Mr Phillips's orders, went off to make herself more useless elsewhere. His voice was softer.

"Dizzy," Steve said.

Mr Phillips helped him sit up. "I'm driving you to Central. Your mom works there?"

Steve squeaked out a "yes" through his tears, suddenly feeling ashamed and stupid. She would be disappointed in him for sure.

Mr Phillips's face scrunched into its usual grumpy grimace but when he spoke, his voice was still gentle. "You've got more sense than that, Steven. What on Earth made you do it?"

Steve wiped at his face with his right hand. "I just wanted them to like me." His voice hitched as he spoke.

For the first time ever, Mr Phillips looked sad.

***

The break wasn't as bad as it could have been but Steve would have to stay home for a week at least. His mom had made the same sad face that Mr Phillips had when Steve told her why he had jumped off of the jungle gym but had then just taken him home when his cast was set and made him his favorite dinner and snuggled with him on the couch. Steve spent the next week drawing and reading and fantasizing that when he went back to school, everyone would want to sign his cast. He knew they wouldn't though.

His first day back, as soon as he sat down at his desk, Gil leaned over and said, "Everyone thinks you're a moron."

Steve scratched his thumb even though his whole arm was itching under the plaster and looked away. A few kids had sniggered at him behind his back when he had walked across the playground that morning. He glanced up and Bucky Barnes was watching him curiously from his own desk. He turned away when Mr Phillips walked into the room.

***

At lunchtime, Steve sat in his usual spot and doodled on his cast. The texture was a little rough but kind of nice as he used a magic marker on it. Someone sidled up next to him and he jerked away automatically, expecting Brock and Jack. It was Bucky.

"That's really good," Bucky said, pointing at the doodle.

"It's Ren and Stimpy," Steve said, not quite believing that Bucky Barnes was actually talking to him.

Bucky plopped down next to him. "Your parents let you watch Ren and Stimpy?"

Steve nodded, not wanting to correct Bucky on the _parents_ part. "It's my favorite."

"You're so lucky. My mom _hates_ it and won't let me watch it. My sister's allowed to but she's seventeen. It's not fair though; it's just a cartoon."

Steve smiled, glad that he had one thing at least to impress Bucky with. "My mom doesn't like it all that much either."

Bucky stretched his long legs out in front of him. His jeans were ripped at the knees but not in the way that some of the girls deliberately ripped them to look cool. "You were really brave, jumping off of the jungle gym like that."

Steve's stomach flipped. "It was stupid," he said quietly and scuffed his sneaker into the concrete.

"It was _brave_ ," Bucky said again. "I only jumped because Brock and Jack dared me to and I hate those guys. You did it all on your own."

"Yeah, but you didn't break your arm," Steve said.

They were both quiet for a few moments.

"Can I draw something on it?" Bucky finally asked, pointing at Steve's cast.

Steve could barely contain his excitement. Bucky Barnes actually wanted to draw on his cast! He handed Bucky his pencil case. "Sure."

Bucky grinned and rummaged through it until he found a blue magic marker. "Can I draw a shark? I watched this movie last weekend called Jaws about a shark and it was awesome."

Steve held out his arm. "I like sharks."

He watched as Bucky drew a pretty good shark, with lots of teeth and gills. "Can I sign my name too?"

Steve nodded enthusiastically. He couldn't wait to show his mom.

"Hey Barnes!" They both looked up; Brock and Jack were a few feet away from them.

"Don't hang out with Rogers, you'll get losers disease!" Brock sniggered.

Bucky frowned. "At least he had the guts to jump from the jungle gym. Not like you two cowards."

Jack scowled. "He broke his arm though."

"He's hardcore," Bucky said back. "You idiots dare everyone else to jump but never jump yourselves because you're _pussies_."

Steve couldn't believe it: Not only had Bucky just called Brock and Jack _pussies_ but he said that Steve was _hardcore_.

Brock and Jack shouted a few half-hearted obscenities at Bucky and then walked away to pick on someone else. Bucky signed his name on Steve's cast with a flourish. Steve looked down at the drawing with as much pride as if he'd drawn it himself.

"Thanks! That's really cool."

Bucky smiled at him and it was a _real_ smile, not a fake smile because he felt sorry for Steve for having a broken arm, and Steve thought he was going to burst with happiness.

***

Steve tried not to get too excited when he got to school the next morning; he and Bucky had hung out for the whole of lunch talking about their favorite cartoons and comics and it had been the best lunchtime of Steve's life. For the rest of the day, Bucky had turned in his seat when Mr Phillips was writing on the blackboard and had made faces at Steve, trying to get him to laugh.

Part of him still thought that Bucky was only being nice to him because of his arm but as soon as he started to walk across the playground, he heard someone shout his name.

He turned and Bucky was running over to him, a big smile on his face. "Hey! I swiped a couple of my sister's grown-up comics. Want to check them out at lunch?"

"Sure," Steve said, relieved and happy and giddy that Bucky wanted to hang out with him again. "What are they?"

"Ghost World and Black Hole. Becca always hides them and the one time I tried to look, my mom got really mad so they _must_ be good."

"Are they horror comics?" Steve asked. His mom didn't censor a lot of things for him but he'd once found a Japanese horror comic in the city library called Museum Of Terror and it had scared the poop out of him. But the thought of looking at horror comics with Bucky filled him with a giddy delight.

"I think so," Bucky said and they walked towards the school building together. "Why else would they hide them?"

"But didn't your mom let you watch Jaws?"

Bucky snickered. "No. I was supposed to be in bed but I snuck downstairs and watched it from behind the couch. I almost got caught twice!"

They had a pop quiz that morning and Gil kept trying to copy Steve's answers. Steve made sure his paper was covered and when they had finished, Gil rounded on him angrily.

"You'd better let me copy off of you next time or I'll beat the crap out of you."

Steve felt a burst of bravery. "Or you could just study like everyone else and then maybe you wouldn't be so _dumb_ and get Ds all the time," he said, louder than he'd meant to.

Gil's mouth dropped open. Steve had never spoken to him like that and his heart was pounding. A few kids had heard him and there were giggles throughout the class but not aimed at Steve. Bucky gave him a big thumbs up, grinning from ear to ear. Steve suddenly thought he could do _anything_.

***

The comics were a bit of a bust; Ghost World was just about two girls and was kind of boring. Black Hole was a little better; it had some really gnarly artwork and made Steve feel a little funny, like he was falling down. He turned the pages without really understanding the story but was entranced by the pictures.

Bucky huffed in disappointment. "Wow, Becca has terrible taste in comics. I thought these would be better. All that trouble to hide these?"

Steve handed Black Hole back to Bucky. "They were okay," he said, not wanting to hurt Bucky's feelings and rummaged in his backpack. "Do you like Goosebumps?" Steve pulled out a couple of the book series from his bag.

Bucky brightened. "I _love_ Goosebumps. I have fifteen of them at home." Bucky held up Welcome To Dead House. "This is still one of my favorites."

"Mine too," Steve said excitedly. "I have fifty-six of them."

Bucky's eyes widened. "Are you rich?"

Steve laughed a little. "No, my mom found a whole bunch in a thrift store and got them for me for Christmas." Steve was very proud of his collection which were only a tiny bit dog-eared.

"That's pretty awesome." Bucky looked very impressed.

They spent lunchtime together again that day and Steve went home feeling like he actually _mattered_. Was this what self-esteem felt like?

However, as the evening drew on, he started to lose a little of the confidence he had gained that week. Maybe Bucky _was_ only being his friend because he felt guilty that Steve had tried to copy him by jumping off of the jungle gym. He lay awake that night, his stomach in a nervous knot.

***

"Bucky..." Steve began when they were sitting in their usual spot at lunchtime. Bucky had seemed to shirk any offers to play with the other kids in favor of hanging out with Steve.

Bucky finished stuffing a fruit roll into his mouth. Half the fun of eating them was to unwind them but he like to eat them all in one go. "What?" he said with his mouth full.

"Are...are you only being my friend because you feel sorry for me?" Steve blurted out in a rush. He stared down at his cast. Bucky had drawn a few other things on there, including a robot T-Rex.

Bucky chewed and swallowed the fruit roll and turned to Steve. "No. You're brave and funny and cool and I feel bad that it took me so long to notice. But then, you are kind of quiet. That's good though; Brock and Jack and Gil are loud and they're _assholes_."

Steve flushed a little. Bucky swore more than anyone he knew. "So...we're really friends?"

Bucky smiled. "Of course we are." He opened another fruit roll and unwound it this time, tearing off a long strip for Steve. "You like awesome comics and cartoons and you draw better than _anyone_."

Steve didn't think he'd ever been complimented on so much in his entire life. He chewed on the fruit roll, some of the anxiety that this was all a horrible joke fading. "Want to come over on Saturday and watch Ren and Stimpy and read Goosebumps? My mom makes pizzas for dinner on Saturdays and we put all kinds of toppings on them."

Bucky beamed. "Sure! I'll see if Becca has any less lame comics I can bring over."

Steve couldn't wait to tell his mom that they would be having company on Saturday.

***

Steve was glued to the living room window, staring down onto the street below from their third floor apartment. He was so excited and nervous; he didn't think he'd been so excited and nervous in his whole _life_. What if Bucky didn't like his room? What if he finally thought that Steve was lame and wanted to leave? He thought he might puke.

"Stevie honey, Bucky will buzz on the door when he gets here," Mrs Rogers said. She didn't really mind that he was so excited though; he hadn't had a friend over before. It broke her heart that no-one wanted to play with her son - he was kind and intelligent for his age and his heart was too big to keep for just himself and her.

"I know, but I want to run down and meet him," Steve said, pressing his face to the glass to get a better view.

"No running down the stairs, please. You don't want to have an asthma attack."

"I won't." Steve suddenly lurched away from the window. "He's here!" he shouted and bolted for the front door.

"Steve! No running!" Mrs Rogers yelled but Steve was already gone. She sighed and unlocked the main door when the buzzer went.

Steve was wheezing just a little when he saw Bucky in the main lobby. "Hey!" he said.

Bucky smiled and met him on the stairs. "Hey! My sister said sorry she couldn't come in to meet your mom but she's running late for her job. She works at Blockbuster Video but _never_ gets me any good movies."

"That's okay." Steve took Bucky's backpack from him after some minor protesting and they made their way up to his apartment. "Mom, Bucky's here!" Steve said excitedly, closing the front door behind them.

Mrs Rogers appeared from the kitchen with a smile. "Hello Bucky. It's lovely to meet you."

"It's lovely to meet you too. Thank you for having me over. I like your apartment a lot. The paint on the walls is much nicer than the paint in our house."

Mrs Rogers held back a smile. "Thank you very much. Me and Steve both picked it out."

"Can we play in my room?" Steve asked, adjusting his glasses.

"Sure you can. Lunch will be in an hour."

Steve led Bucky down the hall to his bedroom and closed the door behind him, his stomach a flurry of nervousness: Bucky was in his _room_. He exclaimed over Steve's collection of Goosebumps books and his Airfix models of WW2 planes displayed on his dresser.

"You _made_ these?" Bucky asked.

Steve picked up a Spitfire and handed it to Bucky who took it as if it might fall apart in his hands at any moment. "Yeah. My aunt travels to England a lot for work and always brings me some back. I like painting them the best."

"This is so cool," Bucky said and handed Steve back the model and Steve started to relax a little.

"Maybe one day we could build one together. It's a lot of fun."

"That would be awesome!" Bucky exclaimed.

He looked at the artwork on Steve's walls - some of it his own, some of it real framed art - and whistled, impressed.

"Wow, did you draw these?" He pointed to some larger pencil drawings on sketchbook paper scotch-taped to the wall.

Steve nodded, a little embarrassed. "Yeah. I don't put them up because I'm bigheaded," he said quickly, "I had an art tutor for a little while and he said it was a good idea to put up my artwork so I can look at it from a distance and see the mistakes. That way, I'll know what to be careful with next time I draw. Um, that one I put up just because I like it." He pointed to a picture he'd drawn at the park of two dogs playing.

Bucky stared at it. "You're so good at stuff, like creative stuff. I'm good at sports but that's it."

Steve was just about to say that he thought Bucky was better at making friends than he was, but Bucky pointed to a big framed painting above his bed. "Who painted that?"

"My dad," Steve said.

"Is he at work?"

"No, he died in the Gulf War. He was in the Army."

Bucky turned to look at him, his face mortified. "Oh."

Steve shrugged. "It's okay; I was really really little so I don't even remember him. He was a really good artist though. He painted that for my mom." It was a landscape from their honeymoon in Yosemite. Steve sat on his bed and took one of his most prized possessions from his nightstand. "My mom gave me his sketchbook for my birthday. I hope I can be a great artist like he was."

He turned the pages of the hardback sketchbook and Bucky sat next to him, looking at the gorgeous sketches of people, buildings, animals. There were several sketch portraits of his mother, younger and laughing. The last page was a sketch of a baby wrapped in a blanket with a scrunched-up face.

"That's you?" Bucky asked with a kind smile.

Steve nodded. "I'm glad I got to meet him, even if I don't remember it."

Bucky was quiet for a moment. "I've never met anyone whose dad was in the Army. How...how did he die?" He said it nervously, obviously not wanting to go too far with the question.

"He was shot," Steve said and it felt good to be able to talk about his dad. He could talk to his mom but she would start to get too sad after a while and he didn't like to make her feel that way. But sometimes all Steve wanted was to talk about him and find out if he was like him at all. He hoped he was.

Steve hesitated but then reached out for his other treasured possession which he'd never shown anyone before. He put the small box onto his lap and opened it, angling it towards Bucky. Inside were his father's dog tags. Steve cleaned them once a week and was extra careful with them. His mom had said that his dad would have wanted him to have them. There was also a small St Christopher's medal that his father used to wear that Steve could wear too when he was older if he wanted.

Bucky stared at the dog tags for a long time and Steve wasn't sure what he was thinking. His brow was knitted and he looked a little sad. "Can I hold them?" he asked.

"I..." Steve was suddenly unsure.

"It's okay if you don't want me to," Bucky said.

"I'm sorry," Steve said quickly and closed the box. "It's just, I've never shown anyone else these before and - "

Bucky reached out and put his hand on Steve's shoulder. "It's okay."

Steve gave him a smile and put the box back. "Maybe...maybe some day you can hold them."

Bucky shrugged as if to say whenever you want. "You're really brave, Steve. I don't think I could ever be as brave as you."

Steve felt his eyes get hot and he quickly stood up. "Want to watch Ren and Stimpy?"

They spent the rest of the afternoon watching Ren and Stimpy and trying to make up their own gross cartoon characters. Bucky came up with the ideas and Steve drew them, the two of them howling with laughter while Mrs Rogers looked on happily despite the number of poop and fart jokes. At dinner, the two boys helped to make their own pizzas and Steve was so proud that this was something his mom had come up with; Bucky seemed to be enjoying himself immensely as he piled topping after topping on his pizza.

Mrs Rogers laughed. "I'll be very surprised if you can eat all of this but we'll make you a doggy bag if you can't."

Steve couldn't stop laughing at how lopsided Bucky's pizza was compared to his. Bucky wasn't angry though; he just laughed too.

Steve couldn't believe it when the door buzzer went later; they had been sprawled on his bedroom floor reading each other parts from Goosebumps books in their scariest voices. The day had flown by.

"Aw, no," Bucky said miserably. "That's Becca."

Steve sat up. "Maybe you could come over again next Saturday?"

"Why don't you come over to my house?" Bucky said, excitedly. "Becca has two pet rats that can do tricks and we can play in my treehouse."

"Sure!" Steve said. "Let's go and ask my mom."

They went out into the living room and Steve's mom was talking pleasantly to Bucky's sister. She was tall with the same smile as Bucky and had long brown hair with blue streaks in it.

"Hey Buckster," she said and gave Steve an amused smile. "So you're the Steve that Bucky has been talking about non-stop. Pleased to meet you."

Steve blushed a little when she reached out for a handshake. He shook and then stepped away shyly. Bucky rolled his eyes.

"They've had a great time," Mrs Rogers said.

"I got to make my own pizza!" Bucky said. He'd managed to eat it all too.

Becca grinned. "Very cool. Well, we have to get home otherwise Mom will send out a search party. Thanks so much for having him over," she said to Mrs Rogers, putting her hands on Bucky's shoulders and holding him in place as he and Steve tried to sneak back to Steve's room.

"Can Steve come to our house next Saturday?" Bucky asked, trying his best to struggle out of her grip.

"We'll ask Mom and Dad but I'm sure that would be fine."

They said their goodbyes and Steve waved from the stairwell until Bucky and Becca were out of sight. He raced back to the apartment and squished his face against the living room window. Bucky saw him from the street and started to wave his arms around, shouting something which Steve couldn't hear. He laughed as Becca shoved Bucky into the car and waved up at Steve with a grin. He watched them drive away and then collapsed, exhausted, onto the couch.

Mrs Rogers sat down beside him and brushed his hair out of his face. "Did you have a good time today?"

Steve snuggled against her. "I had the _best_ time," he said sleepily.

***

As soon as Steve sat down at his desk on Monday morning, Gil started to be an _asshole_ to him. He tried to steal Steve's favorite pen and push him off of his chair. He looked up when Bucky appeared in front of them.

"What do _you_ want?" Gil said huffily.

Bucky was holding his backpack. "I'm sitting next to Steve now. You have to go and sit somewhere else."

Gil frowned and craned his neck to look over at Bucky's old desk; Daisy Johnson was now sitting next to Bobbi Morse, the two of them talking excitedly.

"Get lost, Barnes," Gil said, folding his arms. Steve watched the exchange nervously.

Bucky rested his hands on the table in front of Gil and leaned down. "You're going to let me sit next to Steve or I'll tell everyone about how you pooped your pants in third grade." He said it quietly so no-one but Steve could hear.

Gil immediately flushed scarlet. "That never happened!" he squeaked but it was obvious that it had. Steve covered his mouth with his hand to hold back a laugh.

Bucky raised an eyebrow at Gil and he hastily gathered up his things, threw Steve the stink-eye and went to sit by Grant.

Bucky snickered and slid into Gil's vacant seat. "I hate that guy." He turned to Steve with a big smile and Steve returned it, feeling like his face might split open from being so happy.

When Mr Phillips walked in, he glanced over at Bobbi and Daisy with a frown and then at Steve and Bucky. He just sighed and told everyone to take out their math books and pipe down.

***

Mr Phillips would come to regret letting Steve and Bucky sit together:

"Well class, I guess we can't go down to the auditorium until Mr Barnes and Mr Rogers have quit playing Laurel and Hardy!"

"Mr Rogers, if you don't stop giggling whilst I'm trying to explain the life-cycle of the frog, you'll be in detention for the next year at least!"

"That's too bad, James. Until you and Steven learn to control yourselves and stop disrupting my class you can just sit there and stare at the wall!"

"Class, if you laugh at those two idiots then you're just feeding into a never-ending spiral of me paying them more attention and hurtling towards a heart attack!"

He wasn't all that angry though; it was nice to finally see the Rogers boy come out of his shell a little.

***

Steve went over to Bucky's house the next Saturday. He actually lived in a house, not an apartment, with two floors _and_ a garden. Steve's apartment building didn't have a garden and he had to go to the park instead if he wanted to go outside. Bucky's mom was nice with a kind smile and his dad was funny but in a serious way. He never smiled but the rest of the family laughed at what he said so Steve guessed he couldn't be all that scary.

Becca let them play with her rats for a little while. They were called Dante and Randal and Becca made Steve stand with his arms outstretched and he laughed until he was crying as the two rats ran from hand to hand, tickling the back of his neck as they scurried across his shoulders. Becca kicked them out when Bucky's mom shouted up the stairs that a guy called Dylan was on the phone for her.

They went outside and played in Bucky's treehouse for a while and Bucky taught Steve how to climb up into it via the tree branches and not the ladder. He didn't laugh when Steve struggled or got out of breath, just helped him get a foothold on the next branch. By dinner, Steve could scramble up the tree as fast as Bucky could.

Dinner time at Bucky's house was noisier than at Steve's place. He and his mom often listened to the radio whilst they ate and talked about school and the hospital. Bucky's sister and father argued loudly about politics while Bucky's mom asked Steve so many questions about him and his mom that he'd barely been able to take a mouthful of food. It was nice though; Bucky kept poking him in the side and Steve was enjoying being around new people.

Becca was driving him home, refusing to let Bucky come too because it would take twice as long to get Steve out of the car.

As Steve was putting his jacket on, Bucky stuffed an envelope into his pocket. "This is top secret. Promise you won't open it until you get home!"

"I promise," Steve said, already dying to know what it was.

***

Steve chatted to his mom about his day when he got home, eager to go to his room and rip open the mystery envelope but enjoying seeing his mom laugh at his description of dinner at the Barnes's.

When Steve finally got to his room, he ripped open the envelope and read Bucky's scrawl on the piece of paper:

 

_James Buchanan Barnes wants Steven Grant Rogers to be his best friend because of the following:_

_Steve is funny_

_Steve is nice_

_Steve is brave_

_If Steven Grant Rogers wants to be my best friend too, please tick here ____

_Return to James Buchanan Barnes ASAP_

 

Steve didn't even hesitate in ticking the piece of paper.

 

 


	2. Eighth Grade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How do you handle being in love with your best friend? In Steve Rogers's case: Badly.
> 
> Steve is having a bad week, for various reasons.

Steve was sitting at the edge of the skate park, his own board under his feet as he lazily rocked it from side to side. He could skate okay on flat ground - he was just crap at tricks and jumps, not like Bucky and Scott. He glanced up from his sketchbook as Bucky did an ollie and quickly tried to draw the movement. He much preferred doing this when they came to the park; it was good practice and Bucky was always a good life model.

"Shit!" Steve glanced up in time to see Scott wipe out on the funbox, his skateboard skittering along the ground.

Bucky jumped off of his own board and caught Scott's in one smooth motion. "You okay, Lang?" he asked.

Scott groaned and heaved himself up, rubbing his rump. "My ass can't take much more of this."

Steve smiled and began to sketch a small cartoon version of Scott with a huge bruised backside.

"What are you smiling at, Rogers?" Scott asked as he and Bucky made their way over to him.

Steve held up the drawing and Scott started to loudly protest while Bucky doubled-up laughing. "That is atrocious," Scott griped.

"That's amazing," Bucky said through his giggles and socked Steve lightly on the shoulder. He was usually the biggest advocate of Steve's artwork in any given situation; his skate helmet was covered in stickers that Steve had drawn and cut out, a few of them a little worse for wear. He'd also painted the werewolf on the underside of Bucky's board. His own board had the blue and white star and bar insignia found on a lot of late WW2 planes. Bucky still couldn't understand Steve's fascination with history.

"We have to learn that stuff in school. Why the hell would you want to learn it for _pleasure?_ "

"Because it's interesting," Steve had answered.

Bucky had rolled his eyes. "You're hopeless, Steve." He always said it with a fond grin, though.

"Are you guys done falling on your asses now?" Steve asked, shoving his sketchbook into his backpack.

"I wouldn't know because I didn't fall on my ass," Bucky said.

Scott huffed a little. "Hey, I fell on my ass three times yesterday and only twice today so that's an improvement. Besides, _Rogers_ , you never do any of the jumps anyway, you just sit here and draw."

"Yeah, but I already know I'm a terrible skater. I don't need to keep proving it everyday."

Bucky guffawed loudly and Scott finally smiled. "Well, I gotta go to my grandma's. See you guys tomorrow?"

Steve and Bucky said good-bye to Scott as he skated away (which consisted of how many insults they could fling at each other before they were out of earshot) and started to head back towards Main Street.

"Want to come over before I have to baby-sit Ethan?" Bucky asked. "Deadbeat Dad Dylan made some lame excuse for not wanting to see his son _again_ and Becca has a class this evening."

Becca had gotten pregnant at eighteen it always angered Steve that the guy who was the father was an absolute asshole who didn't give a shit about her or the baby. Ethan was amazing too and Steve had baby-sat with Bucky several times while Becca went to as many evening classes as she could around her job. Steve just couldn't fathom that someone could be so selfish as to leave all of that for her to do. He liked Becca a lot. She was smart and funny and was still super nice to him even though she constantly had dark circles around her eyes and sounded exhausted all the time. She still lived at home but her relationship with George Barnes had become shattered when she'd fallen pregnant so young.

"I can't. Mom's working a double and she'd rather I was home."

They walked with their boards under their arms and Steve listened contentedly as Bucky rambled on about videogames.

"Hey, can we stop by the comic book store? I want to pick up my standing order," Steve said.

"Sure," Bucky said, taking off his skate helmet and ruffling his brown hair.

They went into the comic store which was delightfully dim and cluttered with that smell of print that Steve never got sick of. Bucky wandered over to look at the action figures while Steve picked up his comics and went to check out the older comics to see if they had any back issues of Black Hole. He'd become obsessed with it and was always on the lookout for earlier ones he didn't have. He found one (score!) and walked over to the new comics section to see if there was anything interesting. There was a girl there with her own stack of comics, blond and stocky with green eyes. Steve offered her a polite smile and she smiled back, glancing down at his comics.

"You like Charles Burns?" she asked.

Steve looked down at his comics. "Oh, yeah. His stuff is amazing. I love his inking."

The girl smiled wider. "Me too. How does anyone get lines that crisp?"

Steve laughed softly. "Not me, that's for sure. I try though."

"Do you like Peter Bagge?"

"I haven't read any of his stuff," Steve said. He could feel Bucky watching them from the other side of the store.

"You should check out Hate. It's a great series." The girl smiled and indicated to the counter. "See you around."

"Yeah," Steve said weakly and turned back to the comics. Bucky was at his side in an instant.

"Dude, what are you doing? You're totally in there!" he whispered excitedly.

Steve shook his head. "We just talked about comics."

"But she was checking you _out_. Ask her on a date," Bucky hissed as the girl left the store. "Come on, hurry and pay. We can catch up with her."

Steve felt his cheek grow hot. "Can we drop it please?" He went over to the counter and put down his comics. He could feel Bucky fuming quietly beside him as the comics were rang up.

When they left the store, Bucky looked around for the girl. "Great, she's gone! You're an idiot!"

Steve started to walk towards home. "Fine. I'm an idiot." He _hated_ it when Bucky did this; whenever a girl was even vaguely polite to Steve, in Bucky's eyes it immediately meant that she _wanted_ him. Bucky also wouldn't let stuff like this drop.

"I can't believe you. She was totally interested." Bucky shoved him slightly. "You want to get kissed at some point, don't you? Well, you won't if you act like that. Steve, she was - "

"Bucky, I don't give a shit! Just fucking leave it!" Steve snapped.

Bucky blinked in surprise. "Well, _excuse me_ for caring about wanting my best friend to be happy."

"I don't need to _kiss_ someone to be happy. Why does everyone make such a big deal out of it? I don't feel like I need to go out and _throw_ myself at people to make myself feel good."

Bucky frowned. "So you're saying that I do?" Bucky had kissed a lot of girls.

"No," Steve said, frustrated, "I'm not saying that. I'm saying I'd like to wait until I find someone that I _want_ to kiss on my own, not just do it for the sake of it. It just...it makes me feel bad when you try and push me into this stuff."

Bucky stopped walking and looked guilty. "Jeez, Steve . I didn't...I don't _mean_ it like that. I don't want you to do anything that makes you feel bad."

Steve sighed. "I know. It's like, you think I don't know that people laugh about me behind my back because I'm short and none of the girls would be seen dead with me?"

Bucky looked hurt. "Hey now, no-one - "

"They _do_ , Buck. And I don't care. I really don't. But when _you_ start doing that shit..."

Bucky put a hand on Steve's shoulder and squeezed. "I'm sorry," he said sincerely. "I didn't realize it made you feel like that. I won't do it anymore." His blue eyes were sad. "It's just that you're a great guy, the _best_ guy, and I want other people to see it too."

Steve's heart twisted at the words, elated that Bucky had said them but also despairing because of reasons he could never tell his best friend about. "Thank you, Buck. I'm just not in any hurry to prove myself to everyone else."

Bucky threw his arm across Steve's shoulders. "Well, you definitely don't have to prove yourself to me. Well, maybe with your skating. You really _do_ suck at it."

Steve poked him in the side, making Bucky yelp. "Asshole."

Bucky smiled but then faced Steve. "So we're good?"

Steve grinned. "We're always good."

Bucky grinned back. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Sure. Give Ethan a hug for me?"

Bucky grinned. "Will do." He put his helmet back on, gave Steve the finger and skated away down the street.

Steve watched him go and took his own helmet off, stuffing it into his backpack. He didn't feel like skating the few blocks home. The truth was, he was still hurt at Bucky's attempt to push him towards another girl. He knew that Bucky meant well - he _always_ meant well, that was the worst thing about it. Whilst Bucky was hitting puberty all but perfectly - he was good looking and athletic - and drawing the attention of a lot of girls, Steve was still a runt that got overlooked. He didn't care that the girls all overlooked him, apart from the one or two who would talk to him about his artwork, because he'd known he was gay for quite a while now and he didn't know how to tell anyone, least of all Bucky. Steve knew that his best friend wouldn't care but that wasn't the biggest problem about telling him.

The biggest problem about it was the fact that Steve had been in love with Bucky since the sixth grade and he just couldn't tell him about his sexuality without it being _obvious_. How could Steve look him in the eyes and not blurt out that Bucky was everything he wanted and not some girl? He liked girls, he respected the _hell_ out of girls. Some of his favorite people in the world were girls. Or, well, _women_. He just wasn't attracted to them.

Steve blew his bangs out of his eyes and pushed his glasses up his nose. It hurt all the time, liking Bucky as much as he did. It had terrified him when his admiration for Bucky had bloomed into something more and he had felt like a total freak for thinking that way about his best friend. But then he'd discovered that his feelings were normal and whilst he had been relieved that being attracted to other boys was a thing, he had still felt a constant knot of panic in his stomach. He didn't think his mom knew and he maintained an air of being interested enough in girls around his friends to not draw attention to himself. Well, at least until his dumb little outburst just now.

Steve let himself into the lobby of his apartment building and checked the mailbox. Before he went up the stairs though, he leaned his forehead against the cracked, mint-green paint of the wall and closed his eyes, breathing deeply for a moment. Bucky couldn't know about Steve's feelings for him, ever. He opened his eyes, that familiar stab of heartache flaring in his chest for a second, and then trudged up to his apartment.

***

He dug one of the dinners his mom had made for him when she was on long or late shifts out of the freezer (meatballs this time) and put on some spaghetti to boil. He switched on the TV to a re-run of Babylon 5 and sat at the small dining table to do some homework as the meatballs cooked in the microwave. Steve was used to this arrangement. His mom used to get a babysitter to look after him on her worst shifts but he was a responsible kid and this was definitely better. A couple of days a week, Bucky might come home with him and they would cook something together and do their homework and then play some videogames, sometimes not even talking all that much, just happy to be in each other's company. Bucky always seemed grateful to get away from the chaos of his own home for a few hours.

Steve usually didn't mind this time on his own but right now, all he could think of was the incident in the comic store and the thoughts he couldn't get away from that had followed. What would his friends say if he still hadn't kissed a girl a year from now? Would they be suspicious? How would they feel about it if they knew Steve was gay? He wondered if he'd ever meet a boy he would like the way he liked Bucky. He had started to find himself more attracted to guys in magazines and on TV but not so much in real life yet. It was all so confusing and he couldn't talk to anyone about it.

He was gratefully pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of the microwave dinging and got up to drain his spaghetti. Steve ate his dinner and then started on his homework, glad to have a ton of algebra which he usually hated to distract him.

At 6:45pm, the phone rang and Steve answered, expecting it to be his mom just checking in.

"Hello?"

There was nothing but some scuffling on the other end of the line.

Steve frowned. "Hello?" he said again.

There was a giggle and then Steve could hear Bucky quietly prompting. "Say "hi Steve," Ethan."

Steve smiled and waited. Sure enough there was another giggle.

"Hi Seev!"

"Hi Ethan, how are you?" Steve answered.

There was a shriek of delight and a clatter and then Bucky groaning. After a couple of seconds he came on the line.

"He just threw the phone under the table and ran off into the living room. Hold on a sec. Ethan! Come here buddy. Stay where Uncky can see you," Bucky called out.

Steve couldn't help but laugh. Ethan could talk but still struggled with certain words and names. He couldn't say _Uncle Bucky_ but _Uncky_ was manageable. Steve thought it was adorable.

"So how is your evening going?" Steve asked, sitting against the door frame of the kitchen.

Bucky huffed out a breath and Steve could hear him walking. "I think Ethan has had nothing but sugar today and he's not showing any signs of winding down. Bath time is going to be _fun_."

"It's all for the greater good," Steve said.

Bucky snorted. "Becca owes me big time."

"You love it." Steve could hear Ethan babbling happily in the background.

"Look, I just wanted to...I still feel bad about earlier. Are you okay?"

Steve leaned his head against the doorframe. "Buck, I'm fine. Honestly. It was stupid and I overreacted."

"You didn't though," Bucky said softly. "You should have said something sooner if I was being a prick."

"You were just looking out for me, like always." He closed his eyes.

"Steve, you know you can talk to me about anything. That includes girls and all of that kind of stuff and I won't laugh. You know that right?"

Guilt washed over Steve. "I know," he said quietly.

Bucky was quiet for a few seconds. "Are you _sure_ you're okay?"

"I'm good. Thanks for calling though."

"Okay," Bucky said and he sounded a little better. "Well, I've got _this_ monster to take care of." Steve heard Ethan shriek again and start laughing. "See you tomorrow."

"Bye, Buck." Steve listened as Bucky hung up and stayed on the kitchen floor for a little while.

***

Before he got into bed, Steve made his mom a sandwich and left it on the kitchen counter with a note. Then he brushed his teeth and climbed into bed with his new comics. He must have fallen asleep reading and with his lamp on, because when he woke up, his mom was home and checking in on him, gathering up his comics and placing them on his desk.

"Hey Mom," he mumbled sleepily.

Mrs Rogers looked up apologetically. "Hi sweetheart," she said softly. "I didn't mean to wake you." She was still wearing her scrubs.

"S' okay. I made you a sandwich."

Mrs Rogers smiled and came to Steve's bedside. "I saw it. Thanks, Stevie." She bent down to kiss him on the forehead. "Go back to sleep. I'll see you tomorrow."

Steve reached out for his mom's hand, suddenly just wanting to _tell_ her, just to get the ball of constant anxiety out of his chest. "Mom?" he said and there must have been something in his voice because she looked concerned.

 "What is it, honey?"

Steve blinked a couple of times and then shook his head against his pillow and smiled dopily. "Enjoy your sandwich."

Mrs Rogers ran her fingers through his hair. "I will, Stevie. Love you so much, kiddo."

Steve closed his eyes. "Love you too."

Mrs Rogers switched off his lamp and left the room.

***

Steve felt distracted for the rest of the week but kept up a great pretence of making everybody think that everything was okay. He could feel Bucky watching him a few times, obviously still not _totally_ convinced that Steve was alright, but Steve pretended not to notice. Everything suddenly felt harder to do. It hadn't been this way before but now that heavy lump in his chest didn't seem to want to go away.

On Thursday, he was studying in the library by himself. Bucky had baseball practice and they were meeting up after school so he decided to try and get most of his homework done in his free period and maybe go home and cook his mom a nice dinner for when she got in from work. He was at a table on his own and could hear a group of girls giggling and talking quietly at another table on the other side of the stacks. He hadn't really been paying attention until he heard Bucky's name.

"Did you see Bucky Barnes this morning? He looked really cute." That sounded like Daisy Johnson.

"Oh my god, I _knew_ you had a crush on him!" Bobbi Morse sniggered.

A couple of other girls laughed. Steve thought it was Trish Walker and Jessie Jones but he couldn't be sure.

"Okay, fine. I _do_ have a crush on him. He's just so funny and _hot_. Don't you think so?"

"I think Scott Lang is cuter," Trish said and the others laughed again.

"They'd both be cuter if they didn't hang around with Steve Rogers all the time. I mean, that _has_ to be out of pity right?" Bobbi said.

Steve froze over his English assignment.

"Aw, Steve Rogers is okay," Daisy said.

"He's a dweeb," Jessie said. "I mean, could you imagine going on a date with _him_?"

There was a peal of laughter and someone said "ew!"

"He's really nice. Cut it out." Daisy again.

"He's kind of clueless," Trish said. "And it _does_ kind of look like the others hang out with him to make themselves look better."

Steve could feel the flush of humiliation work it's way up his neck to his face and he blinked back the sting of tears that pricked his eyes. He _knew_ that wasn't true but to hear other people say it hurt a lot.

"They don't, that's such a mean thing to say," Daisy said and even though Steve could hear the smile in her voice, she sounded sincere.

Steve wanted to gather up his things and leave but there was no way that they wouldn't see him if he left so he stayed where he was, staring down at the jumble of words in his notebook.

"I need the bathroom," Bobbi said and Steve heard her chair scrape back. He suddenly panicked because she would pass him on her way out of the library. He quickly pretended to be absorbed in his work. He saw her walk by out from the corner of his eye. She returned five minutes later and he knew he had been spotted.

"Oh my god, Steve Rogers is sitting just over there!" Bobbi hissed to the others with glee, not doing a very good job of keeping her voice down.

 _"What?"_ Daisy asked, the only one who sounded even vaguely mortified as Trish and Jessie giggled. "Do you think he heard us?"

Steve didn't even want to stay around and hear the rest of it. He put his stuff in his bag and walked out of the library, feeling worse about himself than he usually did.

***

Steve smiled as he met Bucky after practice. "Did you hit all the balls and win all the games?"

"Of course," Bucky said, puffing out his chest. "I am the best at all the baseballs, after all."

They dissolved into laughter and made their way out of the school gates, both without their skateboards today. Steve decided not to tell Bucky about the incident in the library; he'd wandered around the school for a little while and tried to think about other things that didn't make him feel like a complete loser.

"Soooooo...," Bucky said. "I was thinking about something and I really need your advice on it."

Steve looked up. "Oh yeah?"

Bucky chewed his lip. "So there's a girl I like and I really want to ask her out but I'm kind of terrified about it." He gave Steve a worried glance.

Steve was used to his heart splintering every time something like this happened. "Okay. What's so terrifying about it?"

"Well, one: I don't even know if she likes me and two: if she said yes, what the hell kind of date am I meant to take her on?"

Steve swallowed down his own jealousy and inadequacies and kept his game face on. "Firstly, who is it? If we find out whether or not she likes you we can work out the second part."

Bucky looked grateful and relieved and excited all at the same time. "Daisy Johnson."

Steve laughed a little, not sure if Bucky could hear that there wasn't much humour in it. "She likes you," he said quietly. "Believe me, she likes you."

Bucky narrowed his eyes with a grin. "And how the hell would you know that?"

"I just do, okay? I can give you my _personal_ guarantee that if you asked her out, she would say yes."

"Considering you're the most honest person I know, I believe you," Bucky said and his eyes were bright. "So what about the whole date part?"

Steve blew out a breath and kicked a stone down the sidewalk ahead of them. "I don't know, make it a double date? A group thing?" He instantly regretted saying it.

"Holy shit, that's a great idea! If me, you and Scott were to ask her, Bobbi and someone else it would be - "

"I don't think I could," Steve said quickly. He couldn't think of anything worse than actually _watching_ Bucky on a date.

"You have to!" Bucky said, that pleading tone that was sometimes cute and sometimes annoying entering his voice. "It was _your_ idea, plus you're my wingman."

"Your what now?"

"You know, like in Top Gun. You're Goose and I'm Maverick, naturally." He put his arm around Steve's shoulders.

Steve couldn't help himself. "You know that movie is super gay, right?"

Bucky's arm tightened around Steve. "Who cares, I _need_ you there. Please, Steve. Pleeeaaaasseeee."

If there was one thing that Steve would never doubt in his entire life, it was his friendship with Bucky. Part of Steve had always feared that the bubble would burst, that Bucky would finally see something in him that would turn him away but it never happened. He liked Steve for who he was and he didn't care what other people thought. Steve had little faith in himself but Bucky's faith in him kept him going. Bucky had always believed in him and even if he never ever felt the way that Steve secretly felt about him, he would cling on to their friendship with everything he had.

Which is why he agreed to the date.

***

Bucky had managed to convince Scott to in turn convince Daisy (he had chickened out asking her himself) and Bobbi to go bowling with the three of them on Saturday. Unfortunately, no-one else could be convinced to come so Steve resigned himself to being the fifth wheel. He knew that Scott wasn't really into Bobbi but that she would probably pay him more attention than she would Steve anyway. But he was doing this for Bucky, not for himself.

They were meeting at the bowling alley at 1pm and that morning, Steve put on a white t-shirt with his favourite blue shirt and a clean pair of jeans. He looked at himself in his mirror and swept his bangs to the side and took off his glasses. Even if he thought he looked better without them, he could barely see a damned thing so he put them back on. He wasn't looking forward to this at all.

He sat down on his bed and took his dad's dog tags out of their box and held them, running his fingers over the raised text: _Rogers, Joseph H_. Steve slipped the chain over his head and tucked them into his t-shirt. More and more he had started to wear them on days when he was particularly low and it helped a little, giving him a boost of confidence as though his dad was here with him. He liked to think that he maybe was. He didn't like to wear them too much for fear of losing them but he thought he would _really_ need them today.

Mrs Rogers had the day off and was sipping coffee at the dining table with a book. She smiled at Steve when he walked in.

"Don't you look handsome today."

Steve grimaced as he got some orange juice out of the fridge. "Mom..."

"Blue really is your color, honey," she said. "Off anywhere special?"

Steve poured himself a glass of juice. "Nah, just bowling with Bucky and Scott. I shouldn't be out too late; I'll get a snack or something and be home for dinner." He didn't mention the whole date thing.

"If you want to stay out for dinner let me know," Mrs Rogers said and reached for her purse. She pulled out a twenty dollar bill. "Here."

"Mom, I have money..."

"Stevie, you've been such a big help around the house while I've been on my bad rotation. Take it and treat yourself. Get dinner or some new comics or whatever."

Steve took the money reluctantly. "Thanks mom. I'll let you know if I'll be staying out late." He leaned down and kissed her on the cheek.

"Have fun," she beamed.

Steve didn't have the heart to tell her that he wouldn't.

***

The bus to the mall was a few blocks from Steve's place and Bucky would be meeting him there, bumming a ride with Becca before her Saturday morning library session. Steve could see him up ahead and immediately recognized Bucky's anxious stance. He looked really good, wearing a black shirt and dark jeans which made his eyes look even bluer than usual. His scruffy bed hair had been carefully combed to the side. Steve let himself admire Bucky from afar for a moment, completely envious that this was for Daisy and would never be for him.

"Ready for the big date?" he asked with a forced grin and Bucky looked up.

"I'm so nervous, dude. I barely slept last night. Well, mostly that was to do with Ethan screaming his head off every half an hour but I'm sure I wouldn't have slept otherwise."

"You'll be fine. You look great."

Bucky smiled, relaxing a little and indicated to Steve. "I really like that shirt." He reached out and adjusted Steve's collar, noticing the chain around his neck under his t-shirt. He looked at Steve with concerned eyes. "Everything okay?" Bucky was the only person who knew that Steve wore his dad's tags when he wasn't feeling great.

"Yeah," Steve said quickly. "Just felt like wearing them is all."

Bucky glanced up as the bus approached and reached into his pocket for his wallet. "I'm paying for everything today as a thank you. I know you didn't want to come."

"Buck, it's not that..." Steve said.

Bucky shook his head. "Just let me do this, okay?"

"Okay," Steve said.

Scott was waiting for them outside of the bowling alley and not long after they went inside to wait, Daisy and Bobbi arrived. Bucky's face lit up when he saw Daisy and Steve's chest tightened. He could barely bring himself to look either of the girls in the eyes after the whole library thing. Bobbi ignored him for the most part and stuck close to Scott.

After they got their bowling shoes (gross), they played a few games in teams. Because they had an odd number, Steve opted out of the first game to give Bucky a chance to play on Daisy's team. Bucky gave him a guilty look but Steve just smiled and kept score. He and Scott were in the next game and Steve was actually pretty good. He deliberately concentrated on the game, trying not to notice how well Bucky and Daisy were getting on. They were talking easily together and making a lot of eye contact. Steve was starting to find it harder than he'd though he would and he suddenly needed to get away.

"I'll sit this one out and get everyone a soda." Bucky reached into his pocket but Steve shook his head. "I have money," he said and walked away to the snack bar before Bucky could reply. He felt empty and weird and more than anything, he just wanted to go home. Bobbi and Scott had hit it off and he was very aware of how little attention the others were paying him. He wasn't angry though. This had been _his_ idea and the whole time they had all been playing, he had consciously taken a back seat, not wanting Bucky to feel like he had to include him every second. Today wasn't about him. It was about the guy he cared about more than anything in the world, except for his mom.

Steve zoned out for a second, waiting for the sodas and slushies when someone tapped him lightly on the back. He turned and was surprised to see Daisy.

"Hi Steve. I just...I wanted to say sorry about the other day. In the library." She looked genuinely sorry and although Steve was as jealous as hell, he wasn't beyond accepting a sincere apology. At least she was decent enough to come and talk to him.

"Thank you but it's fine," he said with a forced smile.

Daisy frowned a little. "No, it was nasty. I can't imagine how you must have felt."

Steve didn't know what to say to that. He just stared at the snack counter and shrugged.

"I can't speak for the others and I won't apologize for them because they should be big enough to do that for themselves. Bobbi's my best friend but she can be very thoughtless sometimes."

"Please don't tell Bucky," Steve said softly.

"I won't. I just told him that I would come and give you hand with the drinks." She offered a smile and she really _was_ nice.

"Thanks," Steve said, more earnest this time.

They took the drinks back to the others and Steve told Bucky that he was going to go and play in the arcade for a while.

"Are you sure? We can play a three-two team game..." Bucky had that guilty look on his face again and Steve felt a small flash of anger because of it; Bucky had wanted him here but he really didn't need him. He swallowed it down though. It wasn't Bucky's fault. It was own for suggesting and coming along to this thing in the first place.

"Nah, you go ahead. I've been dying to play the new Tekken." Steve gave him a smile and walked away before Bucky could say anything else.

Steve collected his sneakers, glad to be out of the sweaty alley shoes and lost himself in the arcade for a while, grateful for the constant noise of the various games. He had been debating for at least fifteen minutes about whether or not to go back and make some excuse to leave when someone jabbed him in the side.

"There you are." It was Bucky.

Steve cussed as the distraction cost him his last life in Turrican (one of the few older machines the arcade still had) and pushed Bucky away. "Ass."

"Hey, we're going to go and get burgers. Come on." He started to drag Steve with him.

"Uh, I think I'm going to go home," Steve said, planting his feet into the ground.

Bucky stopped walking. "Are you feeling okay?"

Steve jumped on that opening for an excuse. "Not so good. Think I might call it a day."

Bucky scanned his face for a moment and Steve was certain that he was going to call bullshit on him but instead, he just gave Steve's shoulder a squeeze. "Are you sure? Want me to come back with you?" Steve knew that he would if he asked him to and he felt like a total jerk. He couldn't ruin this for Bucky.

"No, you enjoy your date. I'll be fine." He grinned. "Spend what you were going to spend on me on Daisy."

Bucky actually blushed a little. "It's going really well," he said.

"Of course it is. You're you," Steve answered.

Bucky punched him lightly on the arm. "I'll call you tomorrow and let you know how it went?"

"You'd better," Steve said and watched as Bucky waved good-bye and headed back.

Steve caught the bus back home on his own, all the while trying not to cry. He was pathetic but he was not going to cry on the fucking _bus_.

He spent the last of the money his mom had given him on a bunch of flowers for her, bought from a little florist a few blocks from home. She was delighted and distracted enough by them to just ask if he'd had a nice time. He said yes and told her he'd help with dinner after he washed up. Mrs Rogers smiled happily, glad to spend some time with her son.

Steve made it to the bathroom and managed to run the taps to cover any noise before he burst into tears.

***

It seemed like since the incident in the comic book store, everything had been going downhill for Steve. There was the thing in the library, the awful group date. On Sunday, Bucky called and recounted the rest of the date, talking excitedly about how he and Daisy had kissed at the end of it and how it wasn't like any of the other kisses he'd shared with girls.

"It wasn't for the _sake_ of it. She really likes me and I really like her."

Steve had spent the entire conversation with a fake smile plastered on his face because he knew that Bucky would hear it in his voice that something was up otherwise.

"That's great, Buck. I'm really happy for you." He wished more than anything that the words were true.

"I kind of have you to thank for it all. It was your idea and you knew that Daisy would say yes," Bucky said and Steve wanted to laugh hysterically because it was true and it was because of himself that he was currently feeling like his heart had gone through a blender and now someone was trying to shove the resultant smoothie down his throat.

"Well, this can be your birthday and Christmas present for the next year at least," he had said instead.

Scott had called too, asking if Steve was okay as they hadn't really talked much yesterday and Steve was grateful that when he answered yes, Scott was happy to move on and talk about getting Steve to paint something on his skateboard.

On Monday just before fifth period, Jack Rollins shoved Steve into some lockers as he passed him in the hall, snickering as he did.

"You fucking asshole," Steve called after him. Usually he would have kept his mouth shut but frustration and anger had been building up steadily inside of him for days and he was relieved that an opportunity not of his instigation had arisen to let him release it all.

Jack turned and gawped. "What did you just call me?"

A few people had stopped to watch with interest, anticipating a fight.

Steve stood his ground. "You heard me. Here, I'll do you one better." He scrabbled in his bag for his notebook and a Sharpie, feeling slightly manic. He wrote YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE in huge block capitals and held it up. "I know how bad your English grades are so I'll walk you through it: Y-O-U spells YOU - "

Steve heard a few people laughing before Jack strode over and punched him in the face. Steve managed to get in a few good swings before Mr Coulson hauled them apart and with surprising strength for someone so slight, dragged them both to the principals office.

***

"Dude, this isn't fair," Bucky said angrily over the phone. "Why were _you_ suspended too? He started it!"

Steve sighed, holding a bag of frozen peas over his right eye. Jack hadn't hit him all that hard but he was starting to feel the bruise develop. "To quote Mr Coulson: "I should have been the bigger man and walked away." It's only for two days so I can "cool off". I don't care really." In fact, Steve was glad he had been sent home. At least this way he wouldn't have to watch Bucky and Daisy holding hands at lunch.

"It fucking sucks," Bucky said miserably.

"Hey, look on the bright side; I made Jack look like a complete idiot. Maybe now everyone will want to be my friend."

Bucky sighed. "Are you grounded?"

Steve winced as he took the peas away from his face. "I don't know. Mom's not home from work yet. The school called her earlier to let her know about the fight but I haven't spoken to her." Steve knew she would be disappointed rather than angry which somehow felt worse.

"This _sucks_ ," Bucky said again.

"Don't worry about me, Buck. I'll give you a call later if I have any phone privileges left."

After he hung up, Steve was too tired and sore to do anything but lie on his bed and listen to music, letting his mind go blank. He watched the light change on the wall as it grew darker and his stomach sank when he heard his mom get home. He heard her keys clatter on the hall table and not long after that, there was a soft tap at his bedroom door. He turned down the Radiohead album he had been listening to.

"Come in."

His bedroom door opened and Mrs Rogers looked at him, her brow furrowing as she saw his blackening eye. Steve sat up and she came and sat next to him.

"Let me see," she said and took his glasses off, tilting his head gently. Steve couldn't tell what she was thinking. "Did you put ice on it?"

"Yeah," Steve said quietly. "I'm sorry, Mom."

"Want to talk about it?" she asked. She didn't sound mad or disappointed.

Steve drew his knees up and hugged them to his chest. "Jack Rollins shoved me into a locker and I made him look like an idiot in front of everyone. He hit me first; I was just defending myself."

Mrs Rogers rubbed the back of her neck. She looked tired. "I'm proud of you for standing up for yourself but you know better than to fight."

"I know. Am I grounded?"

Mrs Rogers let out a long sigh. "No." She smiled. "I think we're both too tired for any of that. Want to get pizza?"

Steve smiled and leaned forward, hugging her hard. "Thanks, Mom. I'm sorry for getting suspended."

"As long as this is the extent of your rebellious stage," she said with a chuckle. "Come on."

They ordered pizza and while they were waiting, Steve made his mom a cup of chamomile tea. She hummed in gratitude and they sat together and watched The Simpsons.

***

Steve would be going back to school on Thursday so he spent most of Tuesday doing what homework he had. On Wednesday he spent some time drawing, trying to sketch his left hand in various poses. He had filled up a few pages of his sketchbook when his mom knocked on his bedroom door. She had the day off and Steve immediately turned his stereo down, thinking that she had been bothered by the music.

"Sorry," he called.

His mom walked in, her face grim. She was holding a letter.

Steve frowned. "Mom?"

She sat on the edge his bed while he watched her from his desk chair, growing more anxious by the second.

"It's from your old elementary school," she said softly, holding up the letter. "Mr Phillips died earlier this week."

Steve blinked in disbelief. "Wh...what? How?"

"He had a massive heart attack," Mrs Rogers said. "It was quick. He wouldn't have felt a thing."

Steve didn't know what to say; Mr Phillips had been his favorite teacher. He had teachers he liked now, sure, but no-one held a candle to Mr Phillips; he had been the first teacher to show Steve any encouragement in his art and any real kindness too. Steve remembered the time he had broken his arm jumping from the jungle gym; that had been a significant event in his life and Mr Phillips had been part of that. He had made a difference to Steve and now he'd never get to tell him.

"His former pupils are invited to his memorial service on Friday if you wanted to go. They're also welcoming anyone who wants to say a few words there too."

Steve swallowed. "I want to go."

Mrs Rogers nodded. "I'll come too. I can swap my shift."

"I think I might want to say something," Steve said quietly. "He was a great teacher."

Mrs Rogers smiled sadly. "He was. He always had good things to say about you at Parent-Teacher evening although you wouldn't have known it from his face."

"What about school?" Steve asked.

"Anyone who wants to go is excused; they already spoke to the high school."

Steve just nodded numbly again. He wondered if Bucky would want to go.

Mrs Rogers stood up. "I'm sorry, honey." She rubbed his back and left him alone.

***

"Did you hear about Mr Phillips?" Bucky asked him that evening on the phone.

"Yeah," Steve said and picked at the hole in the knee of his jeans. "Me and mom are going to the memorial service. Do you think you will?"

"Yeah, I want to. Can I go with you?"

"Mom said she'd drive you if you wanted to come with us."

"Thanks. He was a pretty cool teacher. All those times we were acting like jerks in class and he never once made us sit apart for longer than an hour. Why do you think he did that?"

Steve had considered this too and it made perfect sense. "Because he knew you were my only friend." Another reason he would be forever grateful to Mr Phillips.

Bucky was quiet for a moment. "Are you okay?"

Steve knew why Bucky was asking; Steve had been thinking about his father a lot lately. He may not have remembered his father but that didn't mean he didn't feel the vacant space in his life where he should have been. Other kids talked about their dads all the time. Bucky fought with his a lot and complained about him but he still loved him. Steve had never had that. His mom had never been with anyone else, choosing to raise him as best she could and even though she would be upset if he said as much, it always made him feel guilty. Steve always knew when his mom was thinking about his dad because she would stand at the sink in the kitchen and gaze outside, her eyes far away.

"Yeah, I'm fine. It was just a shock. I'll see you at school tomorrow?"

"Can't wait. Bye, Steve."

Steve lay awake for most of that night, unable to sleep. He couldn't stop thinking about Mr Phillips and his father; two people in his life connected to him that had died. It made him feel odd; he couldn't imagine how Mr Phillips's family were feeling. How would he feel if his mother died or Bucky? He sat up in bed, heart suddenly pounding. He couldn't even think about that - they were the two most important people in his life and he would be lost without them. Steve got up and grabbed his sketchbook, heading into the dark living room. He turned on a lamp as he sat down on the couch and flipped to the back page of his Moleskine and started to write.

***

Friday afternoon was fittingly overcast as the three of them headed to the church that the memorial service was being held at. Steve and his mother were Catholic but they only ever went to Midnight Mass on Christmas Eve. Bucky didn't go to church at all.

Becca had dropped Bucky off at Steve's apartment that morning. He was wearing a black suit and tie and he looked older, kind of like an old-fashioned movie star especially with his hair combed and slicked like it was. It suited him. Steve felt drab in his grey suit and tie, the one he had worn to his cousin's Bar Mitzvah last year. He still hadn't filled it out and he was even more aware of how much faster Bucky seemed to be growing up than he was and the kind of man he was going to be. His heart ached horribly every time he looked at him.

Bucky smiled softly and flicked Steve's tie. "Did you do this yourself?"

"Yeah, took me a few goes."

Bucky clucked his tongue. "It's a mess; take it off and I'll do it."

Steve undid his tie, mumbling grouchily. "What are you, the big knot tying expert now?" He wasn't mad though and his stomach fluttered as Bucky looped the tie back around Steve's neck, standing close to him.

"More than you, jerk." He knotted Steve's tie and folded his collar back down. "There. Now you don't look like a failed businessman."

Steve was about to retort when his mom came into the kitchen. She was wearing a black dress with heels and had her hair tied back. "Almost ready to go, boys?"

Steve nodded and picked up his sketchbook, the nerves starting to set in. "You look nice, Mom."

Mrs Rogers smiled and picked up her purse. "You two look lovely. A fine pair of young men."

Bucky grinned and Steve ducked his head.

They drove to the church and Mrs Rogers found a spot on the street to park. It looked busy; Mr Phillips had obviously been well liked. The three of them walked into the church and found a pew about ten away from the alter with space available. Steve swallowed and tried not to wipe his sweaty palms on his trousers as he sat down. This was a lot different from Midnight Mass which was comforting and joyful. There was muffled talking but the atmosphere was slightly tense. Steve felt better sat between his mom and Bucky though. He glanced around; there were a lot of men in uniform, from Mr Phillips's army days he guessed. He recognized a few faces from school too.

The service was kind of nice, albeit sad, obviously. There was less of the priest talking and more of the people who knew Mr Phillips, all with their own anecdotes and stories. Steve's two favorites couldn't have been more wildly different. The first was an old army buddy who had served with Mr Phillips in Vietnam. They had both been very young and Mr Phillips, whom the Sergeant kept calling "Chet" (Steve hadn't even known that Mr Phillips's first name had been Chester), had saved his life. They had been pals ever since and the Sergeant said his loss was immeasurable. That word had struck Steve: _immeasurable_. That was how it would feel if he ever lost Bucky.

The other person to make an impression on Steve was a woman in her late twenties, he guessed. She had been a student of Mr Phillips's in her younger days and he had encouraged her to pursue her interest and love for science when her family had wanted her to take over their dog grooming business, even from such a young age. She was now a successful astrophysicist and said that not a day went by that she didn't thank him for it.

A few other kids from school spoke, reading poems and sharing their experiences and then the priest was saying "Now Steven Rogers will say a few words." Steve got up and made his way to the lectern, his hands sweating horribly. His sketchbook slipped a few times as he opened it to his little speech and it was only when he looked up that he realized just how many people were packed into the church, conscious of the fading bruise around his eye. In the front row was Mrs Phillips's wife and three daughters. He quickly sought out Bucky and his mom and felt a little calmer. He cleared his throat.

"Mr Phillips was my teacher in fifth grade. I did a really stupid thing once and broke my arm trying to prove something and he could have made a bigger deal about it than he did, but he seemed to know how much it meant to me at the time and he just helped instead. He always encouraged and complimented my artwork which gave me confidence I very much needed." Steve paused and swallowed. "I lost my own father when I was too young to remember him and that's something I've never really had in my life, any male role models, but I count Mr Phillips as being one for me. I know what the absence of my own father feels like and I didn't even know him so I can only imagine the loss his family must be feeling at this time. But I can also imagine the pride and love they must also be feeling for such an amazing husband and father who made a difference to a lot of people's lives, my own included."

Steve closed his sketchbook and stepped down from the lectern. He heard quiet sobbing as he went back to his seat and the priest's words just swam in his ears. His mother looked like she had been crying and kissed him on the cheek when he sat down.

"I'm so proud of you," she whispered.

He turned and looked at Bucky; his blue eyes were watery and he just grabbed onto Steve's hand and squeezed it. He held it for the rest of the service.

When it was over, they filed out of the church with everyone else. There was a wake but it was family and close friends only. Steve and Bucky were quiet when they finally made it out of the church. Steve's mom recognized someone from the hospital and went over to say hello.

Steve was about to ask Bucky if he wanted to come back to the apartment when he felt a light tug on his sleeve. It was Mr Phillips's youngest daughter. She looked to be in her twenties with large brown eyes, swollen from crying but with a kind smile.

"Hi, I'm sorry to grab you like this. I just wanted to let you know how lovely your speech was. Dad would have loved it. He was always so doubtful that he ever did any good in teaching but he obviously did. Just...thank you for coming today."

Steve was at a loss for words, slightly overwhelmed. He nodded dumbly. Mr Phillips's daughter just smiled again and headed back into the church.

Steve turned away and Bucky was next to him looking proud and sad at the same time.

***

They went back to Steve's apartment, all three of them drained and quiet. Mrs Rogers dropped her purse on the dining table and undid her hair and shook it out.

"Would you like to stay for dinner, Bucky? I'm making fajitas."

Bucky smiled. "Yes please." He loved Mrs Rogers's fajitas.

"Do you need any help?" Steve asked.

Mrs Rogers smiled and shook her head. "No. I'm going to get changed and have a drink first. You two go and relax for a while."

Steve nodded and Bucky followed him down the hallway to his room. When they had shut the door, Bucky breathed out a big sigh and took off his jacket, draping it over the back of Steve's desk chair.

Steve flopped on his bed, his back against the bedroom wall, not bothered if his jacket got creased. He hated this suit anyway. Bucky dropped onto the bed next to him, sitting shoulder to shoulder and loosened his tie.

"Your speech was incredible," he said quietly.

"Thanks." Steve said. He reached under his pillow and pulled out his dad's dog tags. "I've been sleeping with these under here the last few nights." His voice sounded odd and strained.

Bucky was watching him and Steve didn't want to look up because he knew he would break.

"It's been a shitty week," he said instead, his voice wet. Bucky would never know just _how_ shitty. His fingers were brushing over his dad's name again and again on the tags.

Bucky put his hand on Steve's shoulder. "I know it has," he said softly and then Steve couldn't help the tears, covering his face, but Bucky just moved closer.

"Hey Stevie, it's okay," Bucky said and pulled him into a hug, his mouth at Steve's temple. "It's okay buddy."

Steve's sobs came hard and ugly and he buried his face in Bucky's neck, clinging onto him. Bucky just held him tighter and let Steve cry, his breath in Steve's hair and his arms strong and sure around him. Steve cried for a long time. He cried for his father and Mr Phillips. As selfish as he was, he also cried for himself.

Because this was as much as Bucky would ever give him.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the sads! There will be less in upcoming chapters but the angst may ramp up a little! 
> 
> Thanks for all the lovely comments on this so far - it's nice to work on a multi-chapter fic again!


	3. Eleventh Grade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How do you handle being in love with your best friend? In Steve Rogers's case: Badly.
> 
> Steve finally confides in someone about his feelings.

Steve stared out of the window of his English class, bored and distracted. Bucky was at track practice and Steve watched as he ran another lap, barely out of breath and tapped Sam Wilson on the shoulder as he passed him, laughing hard as Sam cussed and tried to overtake him. Steve smiled a little. Even if Sam acted pissed, he wouldn't be. Everyone liked Bucky: He was handsome but not arrogant with it, funny and just a great guy but then, Steve had _always_ known that. Bucky had always been there for him, through his tough times in eighth and ninth grade, whenever someone felt like that they had to make him feel like shit, Bucky had been there. Steve had always been there for Bucky too and always would be.

Next year they were both turning eighteen and would be seniors in their last year of high school. Steve couldn't believe it; it was exciting and terrifying at the same time. They would be going to _college_. It all seemed so grown up yet they still acted like they were twelve most of the time. They'd talked about it and Bucky had tentatively asked Steve what he would think about them both applying to the same University.

"I mean, NYU pretty much has the classes we both want to do and...aw, fuck it. I can't imagine not going where you do." Bucky had looked embarrassed and worried and Steve had grabbed him in a hug, relieved and ecstatic that Bucky still wanted to be a part of his life.

"Of course I want to go to the same college. Are you even _kidding_ me?" They had both laughed and wrestled in Steve's room until they had accidentally knocked his lamp onto the floor and smashed it.

Steve sighed as he rested his chin in his hand and watched Bucky horse around outside. A few years ago, he couldn't wait to get out of this place but things were different for him now; puberty had finally been somewhat kind to him when he was fifteen and almost overnight he had grown into a tall but still gangly young man. His voice had deepened, kind of comically at first and his confidence had finally grown a little. He wasn't the sporting type, had never been and would never be - not like Bucky - so he made do with looking like a beanpole who didn't seem to put on weight and muscle, no matter how he ate or tried to work out, but people seemed to like him more now. He hardly got bullied anymore, he had a nice group of friends. His mom was doing well and dating a great guy and Steve was happy for the most part.

Emphasis on the _most_ part.

He still hadn't told anyone that he was gay. That was something he had been coming to terms with on his own and wasn't quite ready to share, not yet. His feelings for Bucky were kept well hidden and most days, Steve only felt them as a dull ache in the back of his mind and heart. Days like today though, it was all he could think about.

"Mr Rogers!"

Steve jerked around; Mr Coulson was glaring at him.

"Uh, present," Steve said.

There was a smattering of giggles and Mr Coulson sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Yes, I know you're here. In fact, I just spent the last minute trying to get your attention."

Steve went red. "Oh."

"Anything outside that we should be interested in?"

Steve glanced quickly out of the window but the track team were gone. "Uh, no. I was daydreaming."

The class giggled again and Steve offered Mr Coulson a sheepish smile.

Mr Coulson rolled his eyes. "Well, do you think you have time to offer your opinion on what Thomas Hardy is trying to tell us in this paragraph?"

When class finally ended, Steve stuffed his books into his bag and made his way down the hall to the cafeteria for lunch. As he was walking, someone threaded an arm around his. He looked down in surprise and grinned.

"Hey Peggy."

"Mr Rogers." Peggy smiled through her bright red lipstick. "Care to escort a lady to lunch?"

"Always," Steve said with a smile and they both laughed.

Peggy Carter had been one of the better things to happen to Steve in the last year. Peggy had moved from England to stay with her aunt and uncle in the US to finish her education while her parents were in the middle of a very nasty divorce. Her cousin Sharon was in the grade below them. Peggy was amazing: Confident and witty, intelligent and beautiful and for some reason she had taken an immediate liking to Steve and they had become good friends. She was one of the main reasons that things had picked up for him and like Bucky, she saw him for who he was.

They grabbed some lunch and found Bucky at a table near the back.

"Hey loser," Steve said as he put his tray down and slid into the seat across from him.

"Hey asshole," Bucky replied, taking the lid off a Tupperware box that contained a very unappetizing looking lunch.

"Now, boys - play nice," Peggy said as she sat down.

Bucky beamed at her. "I'm always nice."

Bucky liked Peggy a lot, mostly because he thought she _liked_ Steve and he spent way too much time sending him excited looks. Steve always ignored them. She liked him plenty but just as friends, which was the way he wanted it. He had to admit to himself that if he was straight, Peggy was definitely his type and he would count himself very lucky that someone like her even paid him the time of day. Hell, he was lucky that she paid him the time of day _now_.

"What's for lunch?" Steve asked, nodding at Bucky's Tupperware box.

Bucky jabbed his fork in it and held up something white and something green and wilting. "Chicken salad with kale. _Kale_ , Steve."

Peggy winced and took a big, exaggerated bite of her pizza slice. "Oh, you poor dear."

Steve took an extra large mouthful of his Sloppy Joe and spoke with his mouth full. "Sorry, Buck."

Bucky glared at them. "Wow. You two definitely deserve each other."

Steve and Peggy both started to laugh and Bucky grinned as he shoved a forkful of his lunch into his mouth.

"But seriously, what is that? Some new diet thing from the coach?" Steve asked.

Bucky nodded. "Yep. He's made us all personalized food plans. Guy has _way_ too much time on his hands."

"Please tell me that carbs feature in this plan," Peggy said, eating a french fry.

Bucky shook his head. "Not as much as I'd like."

Peggy looked horrified. "If anyone tried to take my carbs away from me, I would _kill_ them."

Steve sniggered. "She would."

Peggy picked up a french fry and held it out to Bucky. "Here. Please have one."

Bucky gazed wistfully at the fry. "I can't. I need to stick to this."

Peggy leaned forward, trying to shove the fry into Bucky's face. "No! Don't listen to them! It starts with no carbs and before you know it, you'll be drinking coconut water and saying you _like_ it!"

Steve crumpled into hysterics as Bucky laughed and tried to bat the fry away until Peggy sat back in her seat and ate the fry herself. Steve watched as they talked together and felt a swell of pride that they were both his friends. They got on easily and even though Bucky was a notorious flirt, he only ever joke flirted with Peggy. Even though Steve couldn't tell him he wasn't interested in Peggy that way, he knew that Bucky would never step on his toes to get to a girl he liked.

Peggy gathered up her garbage and groaned. "Alright, well I have to go and help Professor Erskine set up the labs for this afternoon because I'm an overachieving idiot who thought that becoming a lab assistant was a good idea. I blame you Americans and all of this extra credit nonsense. If I know extra credit is there, I _want_ it."

Bucky flicked a piece of rogue kale at Steve. "Maybe you could try and formulate some kind of magic protein shake that actually gives Steve some muscle. He's tall but puny."

"Hey!"

Peggy laughed but leaned into Steve and squeezed his arm. "I think he's perfect the way he is. I'll see you both later."

She left and Steve took a gulp of his soda. Bucky was grinning like a loon at him.

"What?" Steve said, already knowing what was coming.

"Just Peggy. She's pretty awesome."

Steve smiled. "She really is, isn't she?"

"Steve, I know you don't want to hear but she - "

"If you say _totally wants me_ , I swear I'll scream," Steve said with a glare.

Bucky made a frustrated noise. "Steve, she _likes_ you, anyone can see that and you like her! Why aren't you just going for it?"

"Because I like Peggy as a _friend_ , okay? I don't want to ruin what we have at the moment."

"But you wouldn't," Bucky griped. "You can still be friends and kiss and stuff! Believe me, I know how this works."

Steve hated it when Bucky got on his high-horse about dating. Yes, he'd dated a lot of girls but Steve had always been there for the inevitable fall-out. When Daisy Johnson had broken up with him after two weeks, Steve had consoled a heart-broken Bucky whilst trying not to be secretly pleased, feeling like an asshole the whole time. He had been there through Alison Blaire, Maria Hill, Karen Page and Trish Walker. He would never stop being there when one of Bucky's "relationships" ended but he wasn't going to take Bucky's shit about his own lack-of-a-love-life.

Steve bit his tongue. "Buck, please just...you know I hate getting into this."

"Steve, you know I think it's sweet that you want to wait for it to be special and all but it annoys the hell out of me when you can't see a good thing right in front of you."

"And it annoys the hell out of _me_ that you constantly make it your business."

Bucky sighed and held up his hands. "Okay, truce. I'll shut up. But not before I ask you one thing - "

Steve groaned and rested his head in his hands.

"Please tell me you're going to ask her to the spring ball."

Steve took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "I don't know if I even want to go."

"Steve, just this once. _One_ dance. You haven't been to any in the history of school and I'd like to be able to be at one dance with my best friend before we graduate." Bucky looked genuinely sad. "I just want to be able to see you dressed up because even if _you_ don't think it, you're a handsome guy especially when you wear a suit and I want everyone else to experience that at least once too."

Steve didn't know what to make of that; the only time he had ever worn a suit was at Mr Phillips's funeral and he had felt completely awkward. To know that Bucky had since been thinking of him looking like that made him feel a little confused, especially now that he wasn't Little Steve Rogers anymore. The fact was, he _did_ want to go to the spring ball but seeing Bucky dressed up and looking devastatingly handsome with a girl on his arm would be too much for him. It never got any better, seeing Bucky with his dates.

"I'll think about it," Steve said quietly. "I really will."

"Well, that's better than a no, I guess." Bucky reached across the table and nudged Steve's hand with his own. "I don't mean to hound you, Steve. It just...hurts me to see you step out of things before giving yourself a chance, you know?"

"I know, Buck. I'm trying."

***

Steve's mom was on a late shift this week so he had the apartment to himself when he got home from school. He made himself something to eat and got on with his homework, all the while thinking about the spring ball. He wanted to go, he really did but he just thought it would raise all kinds of issues for him, like going with a date. It was kind of _expected_ that you go with a date. It just seemed easier not to go but then he didn't want to disappoint Bucky; it would be nice to go to one dance before their prom and graduation next year (Steve had been secretly hoping he could get away with waiting until the prom until he had figured all of this out) and have a good time but the thought just filled him with dread. It was getting harder to make excuses about why he hadn't kissed anyone beyond "I want to wait." His friends were nice but sixteen and seventeen year old boys weren't exactly known for their tact and patience in certain matters. 

Steve leaned back in his chair and ran his hands through his hair, done with his homework. He listened to the quiet apartment for a moment and looked at the clock on the kitchen wall. His mom didn't finish work for another three hours. As it always did when Steve was on his own, his mind drifted to the magazine carefully hidden away at the bottom of his closet.

Last year, he, Bucky and Scott had cut class to go and check out a new skate park across town and had cut through the woods where Scott had somehow managed to spot a stash of discarded porn magazines. They had flipped through them with glee - who didn't like free porn - and Steve had done his best to join in. As it happened, one of the magazines was full of gay porn but was laughed at briefly before being tossed aside. Bucky had made no subtleties about taking a couple of the magazines and Scott also shoved a couple in his own backpack. Steve had quickly taken one too to avoid suspicion but the whole time they were at the skate park, his mind had been on the gay porn magazine. He'd never really seen any sex stuff involving just men; the stuff he had seen had been between hetero couples and while his attention had firmly been on the male half, he was curious and terrified to see what two men together looked like. He had always been too nervous to seek any porn out on his own and now the perfect opportunity to finally see was lying tangled in a hedge.

The skate park had been okay so they had made their way back through the woods to head home. As they had started off down the street towards the centre of town, Steve had cussed loudly.

"What's up?" Bucky had asked, skating to a halt.

Steve had made a grand show of patting down every pocket and fumbling in his bag. "I left my inhaler at the park."

"Want us to come back with you?" Scott asked.

Steve shook his head. "Nah, you guys go on. I'll see you tomorrow?"

Bucky and Scott had left and Steve had skated back to the woods, heart pounding in his chest the whole time, scared that he would be caught out. He hastily grabbed the discarded magazine and fled home as fast as he could.

It was still the only bit of porn he owned. Steve made sure the front door was locked and went to his room, carefully pulling the magazine from it's hiding place, already feeling guilty about who he was going to imagine doing things with, like the guys in the magazine were doing as he jerked off.

***

There was no more talk about the spring ball again for the next week and as much as Steve hoped that it had been forgotten about, he knew it would come up again sooner or later. Bucky was going with Tandy Bowen, a nice enough girl but a little on the dull side in Steve's opinion. Scott was going with Peggy's cousin, Sharon, from the grade below them and for the most part, they both seemed preoccupied.

On Friday, Steve was doing some drawing out in the quad at lunch. Bucky had track practice (again) and he sketched idly, his mind not wanting to commit to any one subject. He had drawn a soda can, a pigeon and one of his sneakers but gave up with a sigh and put it back on.

"Why the long face?" Steve smiled as Peggy sat down next to him, pulling a carton of grapes from her bag.

"Ah, just not feeling my sketchbook today is all. I thought you had labs to set up?"

Peggy popped a grape into her mouth and offered the carton to Steve. "Already done. Professor Erskine shooed me out."

"Well, I appreciate the company. Seems like Bucky has track practice every spare second these days. I mean, not that I don't like hanging out with you too..." Steve said quickly.

"I love it when you think you've offended me," Peggy laughed and nudged him on the arm. "You're a rare breed of teenage boy, Steve."

Steve smiled. One of the reasons why he liked Peggy so much was because she came out with stuff like this. He'd never heard anyone talk the way she did. "And you're a rare breed of teenage girl, Miss Carter."

They chatted amiably for a little while about classes and movies and Steve started to reach for his sketchbook in the hope that Peggy would let him sketch her. She had such a striking face and he had been inadvertently staring at her the whole time, wanting to commit her profile to paper.

Before he could ask, Peggy gave him a slightly shy smile. "I've been meaning to ask you actually: if you aren't going to the spring ball with anyone, would you like to go with me?"

Steve was momentarily floored, his stomach dropping. Peggy was asking him to the dance? He hadn't expected this; he thought he and Peggy were just friends and now she was asking him to the spring ball. As a friend? As a... _date_? He swallowed, irrational panic starting to overtake him. He was overreacting, he knew that, but all of a sudden everything he had been dreading bringing out into the open might have to become a reality and he wasn't ready. His breathing had turned a little erratic. If they went to the dance, they were on a date; if they were on a date then they'd have to kiss and he knew he couldn't do that, not for the sake of it and certainly not for the sake of it with someone he respected as much as Peggy.

Peggy frowned in concern the longer Steve stayed silent. "Steve, are you alright?"

"I...uh, asthma," Steve choked out and shakily started to go through his bag for his inhaler. He didn't really need it but having something to do might calm him down. His hands couldn't seem to grip anything and he started to feel his face get redder and redder.

Peggy wasn't fooled though. "No, I've upset you."

"No...you've...uh..." Steve was losing it and growing more embarrassed and frantic by the second.

But Peggy stood up and looked at him firmly. "Come with me."

Steve gulped in air as Peggy grabbed him by the arm and started to walk briskly to the front gate. "Peggy, really, I just..."

She ignored him and continued to walk. They were already off of the school grounds and heading down the street to a coffee shop. When they went inside, Peggy steered him to a table and then headed off to the counter to order, not asking Steve what he wanted. He had offended her, he was sure of it; _truly_ offended her this time by reacting the way that he had. Steve took a deep shaky breath, convinced that he had ruined the only other friendship that meant more to him than Bucky's.

But when Peggy came back to the table with two cups of Earl Grey tea and two huge slices of chocolate cake, her face was soft. "We're doing this the British way," she said and slid a cup and plate over to Steve. "I'll forgive you this once if you want to put milk in your tea but that's it."

Steve wrapped his hands around the cup. "Peggy, I'm so sorry..."

"For what? For not wanting to go to the spring ball with me? I'll live but it's all of _this_ I'm more worried about." She gestured to his shaking hands and now pale face.

"It's not that I don't want to go with you. You're...you're amazing, Peg. The most amazing girl I've ever met." He glanced up at her and was a little relieved to see her smile. "I just...I..." He put a hand over his face, his voice breaking.

He felt Peggy's warm hand cover his other. "Steve? Please talk to me. What is it?" Her voice was so gentle.

Steve took his hand away from his face. "I'm gay," he said, so quietly he wondered if he'd said it aloud at all. It was the first time he'd ever said it to anyone.

Peggy's hand squeezed his and he looked up at her. She had a sad but fond smile on her face. "Well, that was all a little dramatic, don't you think? Just to say that?"

Steve shook his head. "I panicked. When you asked me to the dance, I thought...you meant it as a date."

"I'll...I'll admit that my feelings for you run a bit beyond friendship but to have you as a friend at all means more to me than anything else," Peggy said. He was sure that anyone else would have been embarrassed to admit their feelings after such a revelation, but not Peggy.

"I'm so sorry," Steve stumbled on. "I never meant to lead you on in any way - "

Peggy squeezed his hand tighter, making him meet her eyes. "You haven't. Not in any way, shape or form." She bit her lip as realization took her over. "You've never told anyone, have you?"

Steve shook his head.

"Not even Bucky?"

"I can't. I can't tell him," Steve said.

"But why? He wouldn't care, he would - " Peggy stopped short. "Ah."

Steve would constantly be amazed by how sharp Peggy was. "Yeah, ah." He sighed, suddenly feeling drained to his core. Finally, the lead weight that he'd been carrying all these years slipped off his shoulders a little. Peggy stroked his hand.

"I take it you don't ever plan on telling him you're gay, let alone that you have feelings for him?"

Steve shook his head. "He doesn't feel the same way. I don't want to screw everything up if I don't have to."

"But you can't keep all of this hidden away. What good does that do you?" Peggy said.

Steve shrugged and took a sip of his Earl Grey, wrinkling his nose slightly. He wasn't a huge fan of tea but it was hot and calmed him a little. "It doesn't but I'll take it over driving Bucky away any day."

Peggy sighed. "Oh Steve. You wouldn't."

"I don't know that for sure and I just...this is hard. It's _really_ hard."

"Well, I'm glad you told me," Peggy said gently and raised Steve's hand to her lips and kissed it before letting go.

"I'm sorry, Peggy."

"Steve, you're my friend and you just told me your biggest secret. You have nothing to apologize for. As for my own feelings, just know that you're the single most charming, kind and decent person I've had the pleasure to meet."

Steve thought he might cry. "Thank you."

Peggy took a breath and cut a huge piece of cake with her fork. She nodded at Steve's. "You had better eat that or I might just do."

Steve laughed softly and started to eat. He felt better, having told Peggy.

"So," Peggy said after a few moments, a blob of chocolate icing in the corner of her mouth. "Why don't we just go to the ball as friends?"

Steve bit his lip. "You aren't worried that people might think we're dating?"

"Who cares if they do? We'll dance, have a laugh. Everyone else can sod off."

Steve laughed. "Alright. I'd like that."

Peggy grinned. "Excellent." She waited until Steve had taken a mouthful of tea and said, "I've always wanted to be someone's beard," and laughed when he spluttered.

***

Steve waited for Bucky after school; he was tired from his talk with Peggy, not wanting to elaborate further on his feelings for Bucky just yet but promising that he would talk to her if he needed to. It felt good to finally have someone to confide in but he wanted more than anything for it to be Bucky, to just be able to tell him everything. He sighed.

"Hey!" Bucky's cheerful voice broke Steve out of his thoughts. "You weren't in Chemistry." They started to walk towards Bucky's house; Steve was going there for dinner.

"Me and Peggy cut class."

Bucky stared ahead at the street and Steve could see him trying not to smile. "Oh really."

"We just went for coffee and talked." He punched Bucky hard on the arm.

"Ow!" Bucky exclaimed but he didn't look angry. He grabbed Steve in a headlock and messed up his hair.

"Ew, Buck - you stink!"

Bucky laughed and let Steve go. "I didn't have time for a shower after practice; I'll grab one when I get home. So what did you guys talk about? Anything exciting?"

"Kind of. She asked me to the spring ball."

Bucky stopped dead in the middle of the sidewalk. "Please tell me you said yes."

Steve stopped and faced him, putting his hands on his hips in what Bucky called his Drama Stance. "We're just going as friends."

Bucky shrieked and grabbed Steve in a bear-hug. "That's good enough for me! I'm so happy!"

Steve couldn't help but laugh a little himself; it was worth all of this to see Bucky so ecstatic. "It's just a stupid dance."

Bucky let him go, his cheeks flushed and eyes bright. "Yeah, but it's your _first_ dance. I didn't think you'd actually go to one before our prom next year. All hail Peggy Carter!"

"I told you, we're just going - "

" _As friends_ ," Bucky mimicked and put his arm across Steve's shoulder and they continued walking down the street, "I know, I know and I promise you I won't make a big deal out of it. I'm just really happy that you're going." He turned to Steve with a sincere smile and a wave of guilt hit him again.

"Me too, Buck."

***

Mr and Mrs Barnes had taken Ethan away for the weekend to the Barnes's lake house so it was just Steve, Bucky and Becca for dinner. Becca was home and already cooking when Steve and Bucky walked in. She smiled widely and grabbed Steve in a fierce hug.

"Stevie! God, it feels like _ages_ since I've seen you! Jeez, we need to get some meat on these bones..." She squeezed his biceps.

Bucky snorted. "He grew up but not out."

Steve rolled his eyes. "Give me a break. You look great, Becca. How's the museum?"

After having worked her ass off for three years with a small son, Becca now worked at the Natural History Museum in the palaeontology department and she seemed very happy. The rift between her and her father had mended a little and she was currently saving up to get her own place with Ethan. Bucky had admitted that even though the last few years had been difficult for all of them, he would miss not having his nephew under the same roof.

Becca beamed. "Aw, thank you. The museum's great; all of that night school was totally worth it. I catalogued a bunch of Thecodontia today."

Bucky peered at the stove and at what was cooking. "Yeah, we have no idea what you're talking about. What's for dinner?"

Becca shoved him away, nose wrinkling. "Moussaka and you _reek_."

Steve laughed and sat down at the kitchen table. "Yeah, please go and take a shower; we have to eat in this room."

Bucky threw a dishtowel at him and disappeared upstairs. Becca assembled the moussaka and put the dish into the oven to cook, sitting down at the table with Steve. It was nice to chat to her and catch up; Steve hadn't really spoken to her without either Ethan around demanding her attention as little kids are want to do or up to her eyeballs in schoolwork. She had always been easy to talk to and Steve remembered how much he had admired her as a kid, with her blue hair and carefree attitude.

Bucky emerged from the shower, hair still damp and tousled from being towel dried. He had changed into a pair of very old and scruffy jeans, cuffs and knees frayed, and an old Soundgarden t-shirt. Steve didn't think there would ever be a time when he wasn't completely smitten by Bucky in any form.

"Come and help me with the salad," Bucky said to him and Steve got up to help wash and chop, the three of them laughing and joking.

"So Becca," Steve said, handing Bucky a jar of olives. "What are you going to do with your free weekend?"

"I've thought long and hard about it and I think I'm going to sleep. Just sleep."

"Sounds like a plan," Steve said with a smile.

They ate dinner together at the table and it was just like when they were younger, with no pressures or responsibilities.

"This was really nice," Becca said contentedly when they had finished. "I forgot how fun it could be to hang out with you two losers."

"Keep up that attitude and we won't do the dishes," Bucky warned her.

"Ignore him," Steve said. "We're more than happy to do the dishes."

Bucky lunged and almost tackled Steve out of his chair. "Traitor!"

Becca laughed and stretched. "In that case, I have a bottle of red wine and a Netflix queue with my name on it. It was great to see you, Steve." She smiled as she grabbed her bottle of wine and a glass and headed upstairs.

Bucky groaned as Steve started to gather the dirty plates and glasses. "Dude, we don't have to do them like _right now_."

"I want to get it out of the way, then we can just hang out. Come on; I'll wash, you dry."

They stood in silence for a few moments as they cleaned up and Steve considered telling Bucky he was gay. They were alone, they were relaxed (well, Bucky was). He could say something right now.

Of course, he didn't.

***

Now that Steve was actually going to the spring ball, he suddenly noticed how much everyone was talking about it. Word had gotten around that he was going with Peggy and so, of course, everyone thought that they were dating. Steve was getting fed up of telling everyone they were just going as friends.

"Oh, who cares what they think," Peggy said one lunch time. "You need to stop worrying so much."

Steve sighed into his coke. "I know, I know." He looked around to make sure no-one was listening. "I just feel like such a fraud. Peg, you don't have to do this."

Peggy leaned forward and dropped her voice. "You're not a fraud, Steve. And you're right - I don't have to do this. I _want_ to do it. You're my friend and I have an amazing dress that I've been _dying_ to wear and you're going for a suit fitting on Saturday and we're going to look bloody spectacular. Understood?"

Steve laughed softly. This girl. "Yeah." He dropped his gaze to the table. "I nearly told Bucky I was...you know...the other night."

"Why didn't you?" Peggy asked.

"It just didn't feel right. Do you think it will ever feel right?"

Peggy smiled sadly. "I don't know. Only you can ever know that."

"What are you two whispering about?" Bucky sat down next to Steve with a thunk, tossing another unappetizing Tupperware box full of...something, on the table.

"Steve was just telling me about his suit for the dance," Peggy said smoothly, before Steve could stutter his way through a terrible sounding lie.

Bucky raised an eyebrow, always happy to talk about Steve and the spring ball. "Oh really? Do I get to see it before the big day?"

"No," Steve and Peggy said together.

Bucky huffed. "Fine. You think I can't wait? I can wait."

"You sound more excited to see Steve's suit than your date's dress," Peggy said and barely flinched when Steve kicked her under the table.

"I kind of am," Bucky admitted and grinned at Steve.

He had a hard time not flinching himself when Peggy Kicked him back.

***

"I really appreciate this, Hank," Steve said, wiping his hands nervously on his jeans. He was currently sitting in a tailor's shop; an actual _tailors_ that made tailored suits. He'd never owned anything tailored in all his life; he always thought that only important rich people wore tailored clothes. They had come here last week for his measurements and now he was getting fitted.

Hank smiled and patted Steve on the shoulder. "My pleasure, buddy. A decent suit will last you a good while so you may as well do it right. And seeing as how you wouldn't let me buy you a _car_ , this is the next best thing in my opinion."

Hank and his mom had been together for two years now and although they still lived apart, each still happy to enjoy their own space, Hank had become a big part of Steve's life. They had both been tentative towards each other at the start: Hank obviously not wanting to try and fill the space that Steve's father had left and Steve not wanting to make him feel that way but also becoming fiercely protective towards his mother. But things had been easy between them, easier than Steve had thought possible. Hank was a good man.

The tailor beckoned Steve through to the fitting room and he cast Hank a nervous glance before following. He had to admit, as he put on each piece of the suit, he could feel his confidence growing. Steve adjusted his tie and looked in the mirror. He couldn't believe it was himself he was looking at. The suit was a deep charcoal grey with just a hint of navy blue in it when it caught the light. The white shirt and dark blue tie he had decided on brought the whole thing together and he looked...he looked _good_. Steve blinked at himself. I _feel_ good, he thought.

"Steve? Is everything okay?" Hank called through the door.

"Oh, yeah. Yeah," Steve said and hurried to unlock the fitting room door.

Hank's face broke out into a huge smile. "Wow. Now _that_ is a suit."

Steve chuckled and turned back to the mirror. "I feel so different."

"That's the idea. You look great."

"You don't think this is a bit much though? I mean, it's just a school dance," Steve fretted.

Hank folded his arms. "Steve, you don't do nice things for yourself very often, so just enjoy this. I tell you; your date is going to feel like the luckiest girl in the world at that dance."

Steve's smile faltered for just a second. Bucky had been the only person on his mind that he'd wanted to show this suit off to.

***

Steve wore the suit home to show his mom and she was over the moon.

"Oh Stevie, you look amazing!" She snapped a few pictures on her phone.

"Thank you again, Hank," Steve said and gave him a hug.

Hank patted his back. "Any time, pal."

Steve went to go and get changed, not wanting his new suit to get too rumpled before the spring ball. As he shrugged back into his jeans and shirt, that feeling of being a complete fraud started to bleed back into his mind again and he sat on the edge of his bed, a heavy and unexpected depression settling over him. Part of him, some pathetic and desperate part of him was hoping that turning up at the dance in a new suit would make Bucky fall in love with him but who was he kidding? This wasn't some John Hughes movie. Bucky wasn't and would never be in love with him and new clothes weren't going to change that. He hadn't felt like this for a while, not this crushing sense of despair that Bucky would ever be anything more than his best friend and it floored him a little. Things had been good, not perfect but manageable. Steve had been an idiot to think it would last.

***

In the week leading up to the dance, Steve was feeling worse and worse. He pasted a fake smile on his face and laughed along with everyone. Peggy wasn't fooled but didn't press him; he thought she knew. Bucky seemed oblivious, hanging out with Tandy a lot more and worrying about an upcoming track meet at a rival school. Steve was glad that Bucky was distracted.

And then it was Friday and Steve was getting ready for the spring ball in his bedroom, not feeling that same sense of confidence when he put his suit on this time. He felt hollow.

His mom snapped some more pictures and Hank pulled a gorgeous corsage out of the fridge and handed it to him.

"For your lucky gal," he said.

Steve hadn't even given that a thought, feeling bad that he hadn't really even given _Peggy_ a thought in terms of the dance this whole time. She liked him as more than a friend but had put her feelings aside to be a good friend to him. He didn't feel like a very good friend right now.

But he smiled and joked until it was time to go and pick Peggy up. They had decided to not make a big thing of it, despite Mrs Rogers's disappointment of not being able to see her son with a pretty girl on his arm but that would have been too much for him.

 _Because I'm selfish_ , he thought as he walked down to the parking lot.

***

Peggy was thrilled with her corsage and looked fantastic in a red dress that was retro in a way that no-one but her could pull off.

"You look gorgeous," Steve said, meaning it.

Peggy smiled. "So do you. That suit is something else."

When they got into Hank's car (yet another thoughtful insistence), Steve turned to Peggy before starting the engine. "I'm sorry for how I've been acting this week," he blurted.

"You've seemed distracted. I think I know why."

Steve shook his head. "I'm sorry," he said again, miserably.

Peggy put her hand over his. "It's okay."

"You've been such a good friend to me and I wish I could...could feel the same way about you that you feel - "

"Don't," Peggy grasped his hand tighter. "It doesn't help at all to dwell." She smiled. "Brave faces?"

Steve nodded sadly. "Brave faces."

***

Steve pulled up in the school parking lot and stopped Peggy as she went to open her door. She looked confused as he got out of the car and then laughed delightedly when he opened her door for her and held out his arm. They were walking over to the main entrance when Steve heard his name being called.

He turned and Bucky was walking towards them, a huge shit-eating grin on his face and Tandy next to him in a white dress. He was wearing a black suit and shirt with a red tie and Steve wanted to cry, desire and lust and hopelessness flooding through him. He suddenly had some kind of nightmare flash-forward where he was best man at Bucky's wedding: smiling through the ceremony, smiling as he handed over the rings, smiling as he watched the man he loved say "I do" to someone that wasn't him, smiling as his heart shattered into dust.

"Oh my god, Steve! You look...you look..." Bucky was so damn happy for him.

Steve smiled. "Please say I look okay."

Bucky grabbed him suddenly in a hug. "You look amazing," he said and then pulled back, his face soft. "I'm so proud of you."

Steve tried to swallow the lump in his throat. "Thanks Buck."

Bucky looked at Peggy. "How does it feel going to the dance with the most handsome guy in school?"

Peggy took Steve's hand. "It feels good," she smiled. "Don't you look dashing."

Bucky grinned. "You two are sitting with us, right?"

Steve and Peggy said hi to Tandy and made small talk as they walked into the gymnasium. It looked pretty impressive; the dance committee had worked hard on not making it look like their gymnasium, with soft pastel drapes on the walls and stars and flowers and fairy lights hanging from the ceiling.

"Wow," Steve breathed.

Bucky smiled at him. "See, this isn't so bad right?"

"Yeah, until I have to dance."

Tandy gave Steve's arm a reassuring pat. "I can't dance either. If you don't mind making a fool of yourself then neither do I."

"Deal," Steve laughed.

Things started off well; everyone at the dance was in high spirits, focused on their dates and dresses and having fun. And Steve _was_ having fun. The four of them stayed together and drank punch and talked and he even had to admit that the dancing wasn't all that bad. He loved spinning Peggy and pulling her back in, laughing as she laughed and then started to spin him too.

But then the band started to play slower songs and couples started to fill the dance floor. Bucky pulled Tandy into the crowd and Steve watched them go forlornly. This was how it would always be.

"Care to dance?" Peggy asked, her eyes understanding.

Steve nodded and she led him onto the dance floor and he at least knew where to put his hands, wishing more than anything that he could feel something for her and nothing for Bucky. She deserved more than what he was giving her.

"I know how hard this must be for you," she said to him.

"It's my own fault," he replied.

"The heart wants what it wants," Peggy said.

They danced together in silence for a while and then Steve caught sight of Bucky and Tandy, pressed close together. Bucky was speaking into Tandy's ear and then she turned to him and they kissed. Steve made an involuntary sound of anguish and turned away.

Peggy looked over to what Steve had seen. "I'm sorry, Steve."

"I need some air," Steve said quietly and Peggy nodded, leading them away towards the doors.

When they were outside in the quad, Steve sat at one of the tables and covered his face. "It's always going to be like this."

Peggy sat down next to him. "As much as I wish it wasn't the case, I think you have to be realistic that Bucky may not ever see you the way you see him."

"I know," Steve said, wiping away a tear that had rolled down his face. "I've always known it. I just wish I wasn't such a coward. I've always been a coward when it comes to Bucky. I can't even tell him I'm gay."

"I don't think that's true - you aren't a coward."

"Then why can't I _tell_ him?"

"Tell me what?" Steve and Peggy both whipped their heads around. Bucky was a few metres away, a concerned frown on his face. "I saw you leave and wanted to see if you were okay. Why are you crying?"

Steve stood up. "Nothing. It's nothing." He hastily wiped his face.

"It's not nothing or you wouldn't be crying. What's going on? I heard my name - what is it you can't tell me?" Bucky asked.

"Bucky," Peggy said, standing next to Steve. He could hear the attempted damage control in her voice as he started to panic. "Steve was just - "

"I don't mean to be rude, Peggy but I think I need to talk to Steve alone, okay?" Bucky cut her off, his concern turning into mild annoyance.

"Buck, it's nothing," Steve said quickly but the tremor in his voice betrayed him.

Bucky stood still, his jaw clenched. He was getting genuinely angry; Steve hadn't seen it a lot - Bucky was usually very easy-going - but he knew when Bucky was getting worked up. "Don't lie to me, Steve."

Peggy put a hand on Steve's arm, her eyes soft. "Tell him," she said quietly. She hurried off back towards the school. Bucky watched her go and then turned to Steve, arms folded, waiting.

Steve sighed. "This is hard for me so just...go easy on me okay?"

Bucky shifted on his feet. "Dude, you're scaring me. Are you sick? Is your mom okay?"

"I'm fine. Mom's fine. It's..." Steve met Bucky's eyes. "I'm gay, Buck."

Bucky blinked, like that had been the last thing he expected to hear. "You're...gay?"

Steve nodded.

"Wh...since when?" Bucky asked, his confusion growing.

"Sixth grade."

Bucky chuffed in surprise. "Sixth grade? But..." He seemed to be searching his memory for something. "How...does your mom know?"

"No," Steve said. He had no idea what Bucky was thinking but he felt like it wasn't good.

"But _Peggy_ knows?"

"Yes."

"How long has she known?" Bucky asked. His voice was getting harder.

"About a month."

Bucky laughed but there was no joy in it. "Right. A month." He shook his head and scowled at the ground.

Steve was scared now; the Bucky he knew wouldn't react this way. He wouldn't care about Steve's sexuality. This was starting to play out like one of his worse-case scenarios. "Buck, if you have a problem with me being gay - "

"I don't have a problem with you being gay!" Bucky finally exploded, furious. "Steve, you're my best friend - I don't _care_ that you're gay. What I _care_ about is the fact that you've been gay since sixth _fucking_ grade and you couldn't tell me about it but you could tell _Peggy_. We're supposed to be able to tell each other everything - Christ, we even told each other about our first wet dreams but you didn't think I'd be able to handle finding out that you were gay? We don't hide that kind of stuff from each other. We just _don't_."

Steve stumbled, aware that he had hurt Bucky deeply. "Bucky, I didn't - "

"All those times I tried to get you with girls and...don't I feel fucking stupid." Bucky kicked the ground and sent a clod of mud and grass flying.

"I didn't mean to keep it from you. It was just too hard to say and the longer I put it off the worse it got to - " Steve tried to explain.

"But telling Peggy was easy. You've known her what, seven months?"

Steve started to get defensive. "Are you more angry with me telling her or the fact that you didn't work it out?"

Bucky's face was thunderous. "What the _fuck_? So now I'm supposed to have _guessed?_ Nice, Steve. Thanks for that."

"I don't know what you want me to say," Steve said helplessly.

"Neither do I. You know what it feels like? Like you didn't think you could _trust_ me enough to tell me what is obviously a huge thing for you." Bucky's face fell.

Steve didn't think he could feel any worse than he felt in that moment. "Bucky, no. It wasn't that at all."

"Then _what?_ " Bucky looked close to tears himself.

Steve wanted to tell him. He wanted so badly to tell Bucky that he was in love with him, that Bucky was usually all he could think about. "I just...couldn't."

Bucky stared at him for a moment, all emotion gone from his face, like he didn't even know who Steve was. "That's not good enough," he said blankly and turned, starting to march back to the gymnasium.

Steve started after him. "Bucky, wait. Please, just let me - "

"Leave me alone, Steve." He slammed the door back into the school behind him.

Steve stood in the quad on his own, letting the tears fall, angry and desperate. How had he let this happen?

What the fuck had he done.

***

The rest of the dance was a bust; Peggy came back out to find Steve in tears and after he had calmed down a little they went back inside. Steve had intended to find Bucky again and try to talk to him a little but there was no sign of him or Tandy. He asked Scott if he'd seen Bucky leave and Scott said no.

"Is everything okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, we just...had a fight."

Peggy rested a hand on Steve's arm. "Do you want to go home?" she asked softly.

Steve nodded and they made their way to the car park. Steve opened the door for Peggy and then got in himself. They were quiet on the way back to Peggy's house, Steve's knuckles turning white on the steering wheel. He hadn't thought that this night might end in him losing his best friend.

When he stopped the car, he stared blankly out of the window for a moment. "I've ruined everything," he said finally.

"You haven't," Peggy said. "Give him time."

"He thinks I don't trust him," Steve said, his throat dry and hot.

Peggy sighed. "I can't help but feel responsible for this, in a way."

Steve sat back in his seat. "Peggy, no. You've been amazing with all of this. I think I might have exploded a little if I hadn't told anyone and you've been...I don't think I can ever thank you enough."

Peggy leaned across and gave Steve an awkward hug. "Just give him time, alright? He probably just needs a day to get his head together."

Steve hugged her hard. "Yeah. Yeah, you're right. Can I walk you to your door?"

Peggy laughed softly. "You are the nicest person I've ever met. No, I'll be fine. See you on Monday?"

Steve managed a smile. "Yeah. Goodnight."

He waited until Peggy was in the house and drove home. Maybe she was right. Maybe Bucky just needed a day or two.

***

Bucky wouldn't talk to him the next day. Or Sunday. Steve called several times throughout the day and Bucky refused to come to the phone.

"I'm really sorry," Becca said sincerely for the billionth time on Sunday evening. "He's being a little shit. What happened? You two don't usually fall out like this."

"It's complicated," Steve said, dejected.

Becca sighed. "I've told him he's being a dick. Want me to tell him again?"

Steve laughed softly. "No, it's okay. It's...it's all my fault. Can you just tell him that I'm really sorry and I just want to talk?"

"Sure," Becca said without prying. "Don't worry, Steve. He'll come around."

But he didn't. For the next week, Bucky went out of his way to avoid Steve. He managed to remain almost entirely invisible at school, appearing for classes they had together but disappearing before Steve could catch up to him. He skipped baseball and track practice when Steve waited for him, he didn't eat his lunch in the cafeteria. He still wouldn't answer the phone.

Steve started to grow even more anxious. Peggy stuck by him but all of their friends knew that something was up.

"Dude, Bucky is _pissed_ ," Scott said in the library when he found Steve in the corner doodling aimlessly in his math notebook.

Steve's stomach turned to ice water. "What did he say to you?"

Scott shrugged. "Nothing. He won't say. Just that he doesn't want to talk to you. What happened? You guys are usually like joined at the hip. It's weirding me out."

"I don't want to talk about it," Steve replied miserably.

By week two of Bucky not speaking to him, Steve was getting desperate.

"Peggy, what do I do? This is...this is _unbearable_. I've tried everything." Steve almost spilled his coffee as he buried his face in his hands. They were skipping class again. Steve didn't think he'd ever skipped so many classes in his life.

"I don't know," Peggy said. Even she was getting worried. "I honestly thought he would cool off and want to talk."

"This is so horrible. I feel like I've _lost_ him." Steve rubbed his head. "I can't lose him. I can't."

"Steve you won't. Believe me. A friendship like yours isn't something that can be fractured so easily."

"I thought so too, but now..."

Peggy took a long sip of her tea. "I think you just need to go and see him at home. He won't answer the phone so go to him."

"I don't think that's a good idea," Steve said. He'd held off doing just that, worried that he'd alienate Bucky even further.

"Steve, go and _see_ him," Peggy said sternly. "You _march_ to his house and refuse to leave until he speaks to you. Take the initiative and save your bloody friendship."

Steve blinked. "You're scary when you go full British, you know that?"

Peggy grinned. "My darling, you have no idea."

***

Steve hadn't seen Bucky all that day and had asked around; Scott hadn't seen him and Sam and a few others on the track team were kind of pissed with him - he'd missed three practice meets. Steve decided to just go to the Barnes household and wait for Bucky, refusing to leave until Bucky spoke to him. It turned out he didn't have to wait.

Becca smiled when she answered the door. "About time. He's sulking upstairs."

"How is he?" Steve asked.

"Being a teenage boy. I hope you two can sort yourselves out; he's a mess without you."

Steve's heart clenched. He knew how that felt. "I'll try."

Becca grinned. "I'll make a start on dinner. It's chilli if you two are hungry in an hour."

Steve made his way upstairs, an uneasy nervousness he'd never felt around Bucky settling deep in his stomach. He could hear Green Day blasting from Bucky's room. Steve took a breath and knocked on the bedroom door.

"Fuck off, Becca!" Bucky shouted.

"It's me," Steve called.

There was silence.

"Can I come in?" Steve asked after a moment.

The music stopped. "You're going to come in anyway, right?"

"Yeah," Steve said and stepped inside, met with the familiar and comforting clutter of Bucky's room. This had always felt like a second home to him, somewhere safe. Steve's own room was as neat as anything: Clothes put away, everything in it's place. Bucky's room was the opposite: Clothes strewn around, CD's out of their cases and on the floor (something Steve _despised_ ) plates and glasses on every surface.

Bucky was sitting on his bed and instead of the angry and reproachful glare Steve had been expecting, Bucky looked as miserable as Steve felt. Steve closed the door and leaned against it.

"Hey," he said softly.

Bucky fiddled with the book he'd been reading. "Hey."

They watched each other in silence for a few moments and then Steve walked over and sat on the edge of the bed. He looked down at his hands, wringing them.

"I'm so sorry, Buck. I should have told you a long time ago but...I was so _terrified_. I just...I _know_ you wouldn't have cared but some part of me thought you _might_ and things just got away from me and..." he took a breath.

Bucky shuffled over to him and swung his legs off of the side of the bed, sitting shoulder to shoulder with Steve. "I kind of understand. Been thinking about it a lot this last week." Bucky sounded exhausted. "A lot makes sense to me now but it also makes me feel like shit because of all those times I tried to set you up." He shook his head. "It made me feel like I've been a bad friend."

"You've never been a bad friend," Steve said, his voice unsteady, emotion getting the better of him.

"But if I'd _known_. Steve, it hurt a lot that you didn't tell me. Dude, you're like the most important person in my life - I _hate_ that you think you couldn't tell me."

Steve's throat felt hot and he nodded. "I'm so sorry."

"I know you are. I just needed time to clear my head a little and I couldn't do that looking at your stupid puppy dog face." Bucky smiled and it was tired but _his_.

"I felt so awful..." Steve hastily wiped his eyes.

Bucky turned and grabbed him a fierce hug. "God, you're such an idiot. Come here."

Steve hugged him back, relieved beyond belief. "I missed you." He didn't bother to try not to cry.

Bucky sniffed a little himself. "I missed you too. You have no idea. I felt like I was missing an arm or something."

Steve snorted out a wet laugh. "Yeah, I know what you mean."

They pulled apart and Bucky wiped his own eyes. "So, gay huh?"

Steve sighed. "Yep."

"Anyone you like at school?"

"Oh my god, are you _still_ trying to set me up with someone?"

Bucky held up his hands. "Hey, at least now I'm on the right track!"

Steve laughed and it felt so good. He almost - _almost_ \- forgot that Bucky was the only person he wanted. "I don't know if you've noticed but all guys our age are jerks."

"Yeah, you've got a point. So what, you're into older men?"

"Ew, gross!" Steve punched Bucky on the arm.

Bucky reached behind him and pulled something out from under his pillow. "Check this out." He passed a slightly yellowed, creased envelope to Steve.

Steve took it, already knowing what it was. He hadn't seen it for years and as he carefully unfolded the piece of paper inside, smiled fondly.

 

_James Buchanan Barnes wants Steven Grant Rogers to be his best friend because of the following:_

_Steve is funny_

_Steve is nice_

_Steve is brave_

_If Steven Grant Rogers wants to be my best friend too, please tick here X_

_Return to James Buchanan Barnes ASAP_

 

"Wow," Steve said softly. "You kept it."

Bucky put his arm across Steve's shoulder. "Of course I did. This is our contract. I was so happy the day you gave this back to me. We'll never not be friends, Steve."

Steve put his arm around Bucky's waist and even though it hurt that they would only ever be friends, he would take that and keep it close and make sure it would never be broken. "Thanks, Buck."

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with this! Trying my best to update around real-life madness.


	4. College

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How do you handle being in love with your best friend? In Steve Rogers's case: Badly.
> 
> Steve finally gets something he's always wanted...

Steve was exhausted. He made his way across campus, head pounding and limbs aching. He'd been working in the studio from 7:30am this morning and it was now 1:15am. He'd eaten standing up at his easel and while he was very pleased with his day's work, he just wanted nothing more than to flop into bed and sleep until at least midday before heading back over and spending most of his weekend painting.

The campus was awash with activity - it was a Friday night - and Steve wondered if Bucky was still out. He'd gotten several calls and text messages begging him to come down to the campus bar but he'd refused, not wanting to break his stride while his work was going so well. The bar would be there any time but inspiration had to be pounced on. That's what he'd told Bucky and had gotten a tirade of jibes in response.

College was good; he and Bucky had been sharing a dorm room for the last year and planned to for the remainder of their time at NYU and then look for an apartment together. Steve knew it probably wasn't the healthiest option for him, given how he felt about Bucky, but he _needed_ it. Needed to be near him even if he couldn't have him, even if it hurt.

"This isn't good for you," Peggy had said over their last Skype session. She was back in England now and Steve missed her like crazy. "You're just torturing yourself."

"He's my best friend," Steve had replied.

"With whom you are madly in love."

"How did we get from talking about cars with right-hand drive to this again?"

"Don't change the subject."

Steve sighed and rubbed the back of his neck which was stiff. Peggy was right - she was _always_ right - but that didn't mean he was going to listen to her. He finally got to the dorm hall and opened the main door with a sigh of relief. Bed was so close. Which is why he could have cried when he saw the sock on the door knob to his and Bucky's room.

"Oh, come on," he muttered under his breath.

Bucky hadn't brought anyone back to their room for a long time to be fair to him, but Steve was so damn tired. Why did it have to be _tonight_? He leaned in and heard music playing and a few other sounds he wished he hadn't heard and stepped away to see if the common room was open. At least he could sleep on the ratty old couch in there. The door was locked though and Steve knocked his head against the wall and considered his options, finding it hard not to scream in frustration through the ache of tiredness. He could go back to the studio and crash on the paint-stained futon in there but it was a twenty minute walk back across campus. Clint was away on a field trip until tomorrow afternoon so he couldn't call and crash on his floor. Steve pushed himself away from the wall and walked back. Sleeping in the corridor it was.

He lay down against the wall opposite his room, thankfully unable to hear what was going on inside. He managed to make his bag into a somewhat comfortable pillow and curled up under his jacket. Sleep was slow to come though. He was used to Bucky sleeping with girls by now so this shouldn't be any different; it wasn't as though Bucky even slept with anyone all that often really. He had obviously thought that Steve meant to spend all night in the studio as he had done a few times before. He always put a sock on the door knob just in case though, always insisting that Steve could do it whenever _he_ wanted too. Not that he ever did.

Steve had managed to remain distracted for the last few weeks, not thinking too hard about his feelings for his best friend, but now, huddled on the floor outside of his dorm room, his brain started to fill in the blanks: Bucky, stretched out naked beside someone that wasn't him, touching them in ways he would never touch Steve.

Steve squeezed his eyes shut. He could have done without this today. Hell, he could do without this _any_ day, this desire that just wouldn't die. If anything it had grown worse over the last few years. It wasn't as if Steve hadn't _tried_ to move on; he'd had a couple of relationships, if you could call them that. Nothing lasted beyond a few weeks, his last having been with a Norwegian exchange student called Thor, which Bucky had never let up about. Thor had been nice, funny and very hot and that's where the problem had lain. It had all been about the sex which had been spectacular, but Steve had felt like he was just using Thor, not feeling anything more for him than a kind of fuck-buddy bro-friendship which hadn't been fair on either of them. Thor had been disappointed when Steve broke it off and as he had walked away, after a hug and a handshake, Steve had _almost_ called him back, wanting to be able to make something more with another person and not spend the rest of his life wistfully hoping that Bucky would ever come around to wanting him back.

He turned and faced the wall, praying that sleep would come.

***

Steve heard movement and stirred; he'd been on the edge of sleep for a while but hadn't dropped off at all. He turned, wincing as the pain in his neck flared anew. A slender blonde he had never seen before stepped out into the hallway, closing his dorm room door and pulling on her jacket. She glanced at Steve and smiled before heading off down the hall.

Steve struggled up into a sitting position and adjusted his glasses. He looked at his crappy Nokia cell phone - it was 5:30am - before standing and opening the door to his room. Bucky was sprawled on his bed with just his underwear on, flipping through one of Steve's Preacher comics. The room smelled faintly of sweat and sex and Steve was thankful that the window was open.

Bucky smiled. "Hey dude, good timing."

He shouldn't really be angry at Bucky; he technically hadn't done anything wrong but Steve was tired and jealous and he wanted someone else to feel bad besides himself.

He tossed his bag under his desk and his jacket missed the chair and crumpled to the floor. "Not really. I was sleeping in the corridor."

The smile slipped from Bucky's face and he sat up a little. "Oh, I thought you crashed in the studio."

Steve pulled off his sweater. "No. Came back here at around 1am. Common room was locked."

"Shit. Sorry, Steve. I didn't - "

Steve kicked his sneakers off, one of them hitting the closet door with more force than he meant for it to, then took his jeans off. "I'm really tired. I just want to sleep."

"Steve, you could have - "

"It doesn't matter, okay?" he snapped, immediately feeling like an asshole when he saw how sorry Bucky looked. "Just...can I sleep now please?" He flopped into bed with his t-shirt and boxers on, hissing in pain as his neck twisted, pulling the covers up to his ears and berating himself for being such a jerk.

***

Steve woke up groggy and sorry; partly for himself because he was pathetic and mostly because of how he'd acted earlier with Bucky. He rolled over. Bucky was sitting on his bed, fully dressed, studying. He looked up when Steve moved.

"Hey," he said softly.

Steve propped himself up on one elbow. "Hey," he replied, his voice croaky with tiredness. "I'm really sorry about earlier. I was...it was a long day and I was pissed off and I shouldn't have taken it out on you."

Bucky closed his text book. "I should have called to make sure you weren't coming back. I got caught up in the moment."

Steve shook his head. "Don't. I'm in the wrong here. I'm an asshole and you have every right to call me out on it."

Bucky sighed and scooted to the edge of his bed. "You're right. You're an asshole."

Steve flopped back onto his pillow and threw an arm over his eyes. "Yep."

Bucky laughed and Steve felt his bed dip. He peered out from under his arm to find Bucky smiling down at him. "You're an _overworked_ asshole who doesn't take enough breaks. You should've come out with me."

"I was on a roll. I got a lot done."

"Steve, you put too much pressure on yourself. I know you think being on a scholarship means you have to work yourself ragged and as much as I _love_ wiping up after your meltdowns, you really need to relax a little. You're doing well. I'm doing well. We're both crushing this college thing."

Steve's other default emotion besides bone-crushing misery - guilt - decided to surface. Blaming his work on his up-tightness was second nature now. It was easy to say that pressure to achieve was the reason he occasionally (or maybe not so occasionally) had meltdowns. More often than not, they were Bucky related. Things would be fine and then _boom_ : Steve's reservoir of pent up, unrequited love would break it's carefully constructed dam and Bucky was always the one to mop up the mess and get Steve upright again. It wasn't fair on him. He was the cause but it wasn't his fault. Steve often wondered how much longer he could do this. Something had to give at some point and he wasn't sure what would happen when it did.

"I know," he muttered. "Sorry."

Bucky ruffled his hair and Steve tried to bat him away. "Come on. Let's get lunch at that greasy diner. I'm dying for a burger."

Steve struggled into a sitting position. "But it's breakfast time for me."

Bucky hopped off of Steve's bed and rummaged through the pile of clothes on the floor at the foot of his own bed for his sneakers. "So get a burger with bacon in it." He grabbed Steve's towel from where it was hanging on the closet door and threw it at him. "You've got ten minutes to shower. Chop chop."

Steve staggered out of bed. "Sir, yes sir," he said and hoped that the hot water from the shower would wash away some of the Bucky-related tension in his neck.

***

"So who was the girl?" Steve asked as he bit into his burger. He didn't really want to know but he always asked anyway.

Bucky stuffed a few fries into his mouth. "Emma something. I hadn't really planned on picking anyone up but she seemed interested and it beat jerking off."

Steve chuffed. "Romantic."

Bucky kicked him. "We both knew what we were getting out of it. Maybe you should think about a hook-up. Get some of that stress out. There were plenty of guys at the bar last night who would have been all over you."

"I don't like hook-ups."

Bucky snorted through a mouthful of food. ""Oh my God, Thor was _totally_ a hook-up."

Steve squirmed in his seat, picking at his burger. "No, he wasn't. We were together for three weeks."

"Yeah, three weeks of nothing but sex!"

"It wasn't like that."

"Sure," Bucky said and shook his head. "Anyway, you need to cut loose a little more. Tony Stark is having a big party in his frat house on Tuesday. We should totally go."

Steve wrinkled his nose. "Tony Stark doesn't like me."

"He does. He just knows how to push all of your buttons and he likes winding you up. You always fall for it too."

"Jeez, what is this; Pick On Steve Rogers Day? Didn't I get enough of that in school?" Steve exclaimed.

Bucky pointed a fry at him. "Hey, _you_ were the asshole to me for no reason. I get to do this."

Steve grumbled under his breath but Bucky was right. He didn't like being a sullen prick and he'd been one more often than not in the last month. He really did need to let go a little.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" Bucky said and held his empty glass up to his ear. "You'll have to speak up; my hearing for apologies is a little weak today."

Steve finally grinned and threw his balled up napkin at Bucky. "I _said_ you're right and I'm sorry and fine, let's go to Tony Stark's frat party."

Bucky gave him a charming, shit-eating smile. "That's my Stevie. Maybe you'll meet the man of your dreams there."

Steve stuffed some more food into his mouth so he didn't come out and say that the man of his dreams was right in front of him and had been for the last ten years.

***

The weekend was fairly uneventful; Steve spent Saturday morning in the studio trying to finish up his painting project. He wasn't a huge fan of painting but it was required and he had been busting his ass trying to do a good job. The other art students were impressed by his output but Steve could only see the flaws in his work. He guessed it was a good thing; if he was always happy with what he'd done then he would definitely be on the wrong track. He had to keep things in perspective, challenge himself constantly.

Bucky stopped by at lunchtime with food. "We're eating and then leaving; I won't let you spend all weekend in here with no sunlight."

Steve took a bite of his sandwich and stepped away from one of his paintings, cocking his head as he considered his choice of shadow from afar. "Okay."

Bucky pretended to choke on his own food. " _Okay?_ You mean you're actually listening to me?!"

Steve threw him a grin. "Yep."

They finished up and Steve was grateful when they stepped out into the sunshine. Bucky was beaming and talking about Ethan's upcoming eleventh birthday.

"I'm going to give him my old skateboard. You know how he always loved it as a little kid? I think it's mainly because of the werewolf you painted on it. I'm going to get new wheels and trucks for it though."

"That's an awesome gift. I was going to get him the Lord Of The Rings books; do you think he'd like those?"

"Hell yes," Bucky said and claimed a patch of grass on the campus quad. "He's literally _eating_ his way through my old book collection."

They lounged in the sun for a while, talking and joking and Steve was content. In moments like these, Bucky was all his.

Bucky's phone buzzed a couple of hours later and Steve looked up from where he'd been idly scribbling trees in his sketchbook. "Clint wants to know if we're up for beer and Cards Against Humanity later with Erik and Logan."

"Always," Steve said and stretched out on the grass, staring up at the sky. "Hey look," he snorted and pointed upwards. "That cloud looks like a dick."

Bucky didn't look up from his phone. "Sounds like someone needs to get some." He ducked as Steve threw his empty coke can at him.

***

They both woke up on Sunday morning a little worse for wear, with hangovers and throats raw from laughing. Clint had made up his own special deck of CAH cards and Steve didn't think he'd had such a good time for ages. He and Bucky had both staggered back to their room, arms flung around each other and singing John Parr songs at the top of their lungs.

It was agreed that they would both get up for lunch and go see a movie, making as little effort as possible to get anything really productive done. Steve felt better having taken some time off; had Bucky not made him leave the studio, he would have worked all weekend, It was better this way; he could go back tomorrow after his morning classes with a fresh eye.

The movie they picked to go see turned out to be a boring thriller. Bucky fell asleep about thirty minutes in, head resting at an angle on the back of his seat. Steve watched him more than the movie. Over the years they had known each other, Bucky had grown more handsome; it was no wonder he had no shortage of female admirers, with his short chestnut hair and bright blue eyes. His smile could draw someone in from across the room and he exuded a confidence that Steve had always been envious of. But he was also just the best person that Steve knew, besides his mom. Here in the dark, Steve could stare and pine, imagining what it would be like to touch Bucky in ways he had never before: running a finger gently down his face and feeling the contours of his jaw, mouthing at his neck, kissing his lips. Steve sighed and turned his attention back to the movie. It hurt less to watch.

***

Neither of them expected things to go from zero to horrible on Monday morning. Steve had just stepped back in the room from having had a shower and Bucky was grumpily pulling on his socks, still in just a t-shirt and boxers.

"How do Monday mornings never get any better?" he griped.

Steve dried his short hair briskly with his small towel. "It's one of the secrets of the universe I think."

Bucky chuffed. He was reaching for his jeans when his cell phone rang. "Huh. It's Becca." He answered it. "Hey loser."

Steve grinned and turned away to rummage for some clean clothes of his own. He had a history lecture in an hour and then he planned to get into the studio and finally finish his painting project.

" _What?_ " Bucky said in a choked voice behind him. Steve snapped his head up; Bucky was white and clutching the phone tightly, his eyes wide and scared. Fear flooded through Steve and he dropped his jeans and stepped over to his best friend.

"Is he going to be okay? What's..." Bucky was breathing unevenly.

Steve swallowed. Something had happened to Bucky's dad or Ethan. That had to be it.

Bucky let out a breath that turned into a sob. "I'm coming home. I want to come home. I have to be there - " He stopped and listened. "No, _no_ Becca. I want to be there too, I don't care what..." His face crumpled in anger. "I don't fucking _care!_ He's my nephew, I want to _be_ there."

Steve wrung his hands. Ethan. Something had happened to Ethan. He could feel something sharp and sour rising in his throat and he forced it down. _God, not Ethan,_ he thought. _Please..._

Bucky started to cry and put a hand over his face. "Fine. Fucking _fine_. But if anything happens, I'll never forgive you for making me stay here." He angrily hung up and threw his phone into the far corner of the room, sinking down onto his bed and burying his face in his hands.

Steve knelt in front of him, aware he was still only wearing a towel around his waist but not caring. "Buck? What happened? What's going on?"

Bucky ran his hands through his hair, his face red and blotchy, eyes wet. "Ethan...Ethan was at the skate park and tried to go down the big vert ramp on his bike but wiped out. He wasn't wearing his helmet."

Steve closed his eyes. "Shit. Is he okay?"

"No. He hasn't woken up. It was bad and he...he hasn't woken up." Bucky's breath hitched horribly. "They thought maybe he'd broken his neck but it's not...he hasn't but they're...he had some swelling and...they think there could be some brain damage. They're waiting on some...some tests."

"Oh Bucky..."

Bucky burst into tears; huge hard sobs. He hardly ever cried. "How could this happen?"

Steve sat on the bed next to him and hugged him hard. Bucky sank into him and cried. Steve felt numb; Ethan had to be okay. He just _had_ to. He was such a sweet kid. Steve had held him when he was just a few days old. He had watched him go from crawling to walking, babysat him and played Mario Kart with him. He couldn't even imagine what Bucky and his family were going through. Bucky loved Ethan so much.

"Becca doesn't want me to go to the hospital. She said...it's best that I wait. That me and Dad would just fight and she can't handle it. How could she? How could she not want me there?" Bucky's voice was high and angry.

Steve rubbed his hand up and down Bucky's back. Over the last few years, Bucky and George Barnes hadn't been getting on and fought at the drop of a hat. Steve knew it would be a shit-storm if he were to go home now and he could understand Becca not wanting to deal with her father and brother at each other's throats while her son could be seriously handicapped. But Bucky was distraught and he had to be diplomatic about this.

"Buck, it would take you three hours to get back home on the train and I think Becca's right; the best thing you can do is wait. Your folks are with her and the doctors sound like they're doing all they can."

Bucky looked up at him. "How can you _agree_ with her? I'm going. I'm going whether she wants me to or not." Bucky stood up but Steve stood with him, planting his hands on Bucky's shoulders.

"Bucky," he said softly, "come on. The best thing we can do is wait. Think about Becca and what she wants. I know it sucks but Ethan is her son. She needs your support right now and if that's with you staying here, you need to respect that. I know it hurts and you want to be there but what could you do?"

Bucky shook his head but it was weak. "But what if he...and I'm not there?"

Steve held Bucky's face in both hands. Bucky stared at him desperately. "He won't. He's a strong kid. Whatever happens, I'll be there with you. If you stay here, I stay here. If you go home, I'll go home with you if you want me to. Ethan's a _strong_ kid. I think he'll be okay."

Tears streamed down Bucky's face. "You really believe that?"

"I _have_ to believe it. I'm staying here with you, okay? We're not going anywhere until we hear something. Then we'll decide what to do."

Bucky took a deep breath and seemed a little calmer. "But...what about your classes? Your painting project?"

"Screw them," Steve said. "This is more important."

Bucky clutched Steve again, burying his face in Steve's shoulder. "Thank you."

Steve held Bucky back and closed his eyes. "I'll always be here, Buck. Always."

***

Steve called his lecturers and took a personal day. He hadn't missed a class the whole time he'd been here but he suddenly didn't care. He called Bucky's lecturers too and told them a serious family matter had come up. Bucky had fallen asleep, his breaths fitful and Steve threw on a t-shirt and a pair of sweats. This was going to be agony, waiting to hear on Ethan's condition. After a few hours, he gathered up as many dirty clothes as he could, his and Bucky's, and took them down to the laundry room. He figured he may as well do something useful.

When he went back up to their dorm room, Bucky stirred on his bed. His eyes were red.

"Where were you?" he asked, his voice raw.

Steve came over and sat on the edge of Bucky's bed. "Just putting on some washing. Needed something to do."

Bucky nodded and covered his eyes with one arm. "This is horrible."

"I know," Steve said.

"Will you lie down with me?" Bucky asked, his voice small.

Steve crawled onto the bed besides Bucky, smelling him on the pillow and covers. Bucky moved over a little and snuggled into Steve's side.

"Is this okay?" he asked.

Steve put his hand on Bucky's arm and rubbed it. "Yeah."

Bucky was quiet after that and Steve didn't speak either. They had only ever done this once, after Mr Phillips's funeral. Steve had cried and Bucky had pulled him down on his bed, wrapping his arms around him as he sobbed, the two of them lying together for an hour before Steve's mom had called them for dinner. They hadn't really talked about it afterwards and Steve had never expected it to happen again. Although they had a tactile relationship - hugging, arms across shoulders - this was different, more intimate. Steve knew it didn't mean anything and it would be selfish of him to think otherwise and he tried not to think about how warm Bucky was, how good it felt to be stretched out beside him.

Half an hour later, Bucky's cell phone rang. He sat bolt upright and answered it, hands shaking. Steve sat up too, his heart pounding.

"Mom?" Bucky said into his phone, his hair a tousled mess. "What's going on?"

Steve listened, trying to piece together the conversation.

"Well, when will they know? Why is it taking so long?" His jaw clenched as his mother spoke. "Look, I want to come home. I want to be there too." Steve watched as Bucky's face folded into anger again. "I don't give a shit what Dad thinks; if he's so worried about the money that's keeping me here I'll quit right now! Jesus, does he care more about that than Ethan?" Bucky put a hand to his face. "Mom, I'm upset too, okay? You think I like this? No-one seems to want me to be there. I know I can't do anything but - " He hissed out a sigh. "Right. Fine. Just...please call every hour? Don't leave me hanging here. Let me know as soon as the doctors tell you anything." His shoulders sagged a little. "I know. I love you too. Please tell Becca I'm...I'm praying, okay? Bye, Mom." Bucky hung up and slumped against the wall.

Steve shuffled along the bed and sat next to him. "No news?"

"They've run an MRI and a CAT scan but it's too early to say until the swelling goes down. This is unbearable."

Steve reached out and held Bucky's hand. "I know. Let's go and get some food, alright? Get outside. Sitting in here the whole time is just going to drive us even more crazy."

Bucky nodded. "Yeah, okay."

They headed down to the cafeteria which was thankfully sparse of people. Steve sat Bucky down in the far corner and used his dinner vouchers to get a couple of hot dogs and sodas. The cafeteria food was bland but maybe that's what they needed. Bucky was staring blankly out of the window when Steve set down the tray.

"Do you pray much?" Bucky asked him, still looking outside. It was a lovely day; too nice for something like this to be happening.

Steve slid into the seat opposite, a little surprised by the question. "Not as much as I used to." Whenever he felt like he _needed_ something on a particularly bad day, he wore or held his dad's dog tag still.

"I think I've prayed twice in my whole life. I can't even tell if I'm doing it right."

Steve put Bucky's hot dog in front of him. "I don't think there's any right way; you just...talk and hope that whoever is up there is listening. Try and eat something, okay?"

Bucky picked up the hot dog and chewed it. They finished eating and went for a walk. Bucky's mom called again but there was still no change. The day dragged on; it felt like they were in some kind of hellish limbo, not able to do anything, just waiting for good news or bad news. Bucky eventually steered them back to their room and Steve went down to pick up the laundry he'd forgotten about. They tried to watch TV, both sitting on Steve's bed.

Bucky's phone rang at 6:30pm. He looked terrified. "It's Becca."

Steve clenched his fists at his sides.

"Becca? Has anything..." he trailed off.

Steve couldn't hear anything on the other end of the phone. _Please,_ he thought. _Please..._

Bucky listened and then clapped a hand to his mouth crying, his breaths wet and ragged.

Steve stiffened, his blood turning to ice water.

"He's okay," Bucky finally choked out. "He's going to be okay." He started to cry harder, his arm dropping to his side.

Steve clambered off of the bed and gently took the cell phone from Bucky's hand.

"Becca? It's Steve."

"Hey Steve," Becca said. She was crying too. "Is Buck okay?"

"Yeah, he'll be fine. It's been a terrible day is all. How are you holding up?"

"Better now." There was a wet sound as she blew her nose. "I'm so glad you were there with him. I know how much he wanted to come back but I just couldn't..." She started to sob.

"Hey, it's alright," Steve said softly. "I can't imagine what you've gone through. You did what you had to and Bucky understands, okay? You just have to be there for Ethan now. Is he awake?"

"He woke up for a bit but he's sleeping. They're going to run some more tests tomorrow but he was lucid and everything...everything seems okay."

"Thank God," Steve breathed. "Look, you go and get some rest. Let your folks take care of you. I'll take care of Bucky."

"I will. Thanks, Steve. Tell Bucky I love him."

Steve hung up. Bucky was sitting on the floor, weeping into his hands. Steve sank down next to him and pulled Bucky to him.

"He's going to be okay, Buck. It's all okay."

Bucky threw his arms around Steve's neck. "Oh God, I just...just kept thinking that...what if..."

"I know. It's alright now. He's going to be alright." Steve stroked Bucky's hair.

Bucky pulled away a little, wiping his eyes. He was a mess. "How do you do it? How do you stay so strong all the time?"

"I'm not strong," Steve said quietly. If only Bucky knew.

"You are though. All through today, back with your dad and school and everything...you just _know_ what to do, how to keep it together." Bucky wiped his face and stared at Steve, his blue eyes searching. "You've always been the strong one."

Steve pulled his hanky from his pocket and ran it gently down Bucky's cheeks, dabbing at the tears. "I have a lot of reasons to stay strong." He didn't meet Bucky's eyes as he said it; everything might have been laid bare for Bucky to read otherwise.

"I couldn't have done this without you," Bucky said, his voice breaking. He hugged Steve hard again. "I'm so fucking lucky to have you."

Every day seemed to bring a new way for Steve's already broken heart to break again.

***

Tuesday was a better day. Bucky spoke to Becca and Ethan was already doing better but he would be in the hospital for a while longer. Bucky arranged with his family to go home on Wednesday for a few days.

"I'll have a lot of work to catch up on but I don't care. I just want to hug that little asshole and shout at him to wear his goddamn helmet any time he's on his bike." He seemed happier this morning.

Steve smiled. "Still planning on giving him your old skateboard?"

"Hell yes! He won't let something like this stop him from doing the things that he loves so neither will I. I'm going to buy him some new pads and another helmet too."

Steve was getting his stuff ready to head back over to the studio. If he skipped lunch, he might make up some time for having missed yesterday. Not that he resented staying with Bucky.

"Hey, you're still up for that party later, right?" Bucky asked as Steve shrugged on his jacket. "I need to cut loose a little after...well, after yesterday."

Steve managed a smile. "Yeah, I'm still up for it. Could do with cutting loose myself."

Bucky clapped him on the shoulder. "Awesome. Meet me back here at around 6:30? I'll grab some take-out and then we'll head over to the frat house."

"Sounds good, Buck. See you later."

Steve worked until 3pm, happier with his project than he been at the weekend and stopped by the history department to talk to the TA about the class he missed on Monday. Luckily, he was further ahead with that class than he was with his art and he felt like he really _could_ cut loose a little tonight. He didn't have any classes until midday on Wednesday and Bucky being away meant that Steve could not feel guilty about being a total hermit for the next few days.

When he got back to their room, he sent Peggy an email, making general small talk and asking if she was free to Skype this week. He wished more than anything that they didn't have an ocean between them; it just wasn't the same without her here. She had become a close friend since high school, someone he could confide in completely and she was still the only person who knew about his feelings for Bucky. She also didn't mind telling Steve that he was an idiot for putting himself through hell every day.

Bucky came back from his English Lit class with the promised take-out - Thai, Steve's favorite - and they sat on the grubby carpet and watched Archer as they ate. As right as Peggy was about Steve putting himself through hell, he couldn't give up moments like these.

They got ready for the party after eating; Steve opted for a pair of jeans and his red plaid shirt - he wasn't looking to impress tonight - while Bucky wore his dark jeans and a black shirt.

"Oh man, I really need this tonight. Apologies in advance if I get wasted," Bucky said as he styled his hair.

Steve combed his own hair as neatly as it would go and cleaned his glasses. "Well, I'm not planning on getting too wasted so I'll keep you in check."

Bucky grinned. "Thanks Dad."

Tony's frat house was a fifteen minute walk away and the evening was warm. They could already hear the _thump thump_ of some god awful 90s dance track - 2 Unlimited maybe - as they approached and Bucky laughed with delight.

"Oh wow, that music right there sets the tone for the night!" He practically skipped up the steps to the house. Steve followed, happy that Bucky was happy.

There were already a lot of people inside and Steve greeted the few he recognized. He followed Bucky through to the kitchen where there were numerous drinks and a few large kegs.

"Never let it be said that college isn't still one huge cliché," Steve muttered to himself, grabbing a bottle of beer.

"Well hey there; if it isn't Barnes plus guest." Tony Stark was sitting on one of the kitchen counters, already looking slightly blotto, some odd brand of vodka in his hand. Steve knew Tony Stark a little as their circle of friends ran into each other on occasion. From what he could tell, Tony was from a rich family and was coasting through college. Coasting because he was already too smart for all of his classes, much to his teacher's dismay, and was happy to spend the rest of his time drinking and throwing parties on daddy's dime when he wasn't running his lecturers ragged. He seemed to like Bucky a lot but always spent more of his time verbally poking and prodding Steve, mainly because he could see how much Steve didn't enjoy it.

"Hey Stark. Thanks for the beer. Nice music," Bucky said, leaning on the kitchen table and downing nearly a whole bottle of beer in one go. Barbie Girl by Aqua was blaring much to the delight of the other party goers.

"I was feeling nostalgic," Tony said. "So when are you going to pledge for us? You'd fit in well here, like a..." he made a motion with his hand, squinting into the middle distance. "Help me out here."

"Like a square peg?" Bucky said. "Nah, I'm good. Gonna make a circuit," he said to Steve and headed into the living room.

Tony turned to Steve. "How about you, Rogers? Wanna be in a frat?"

"No thanks," Steve said and scooped up a blob of guacamole on a chip. "Not really my thing. Plus I've heard what you make new pledges do. I like having a little dignity."

"More into the whole art and history scene, right?"

"Something wrong with that?" Steve asked, already on the defensive. Tony had a knack for saying things in the wrong way.

"Nothing at all." He took a long swallow from his bottle. "In fact," he said around a burp, "you're pretty damn good with a paint brush."

Steve wasn't sure what to make of that. "How would you know?"

"My girlfriend is in your class. Pepper Potts? Went to see her in the studio on Sunday and had a nose around. Saw your work. You've got a good style going on. Kind of classic." He was being serious.

"Um, thanks. I'm better with illustrative stuff. The painting course is kicking my ass."

Tony slid off the counter and sauntered over to Steve. "You wouldn't know it. Up for selling any pieces when you're done?"

Steve gave him a look, unsure as to whether he was joking. "They're not _that_ good."

Tony stuffed some garlic bread into his mouth. "I beg to differ. My old man collects art. Like the real stuff, the expensive stuff and most of it is _garbage_. Except for the Pollock."

Steve gawped. "You...you own a _Pollock?_ "

"My _dad_ owns a Pollock. I like raw art. Your stuff is raw. Think about it." He winked at Steve and wobbled off towards the back door of the house and out to the patio.

Bucky came back into the kitchen and poured himself a beer from one of the kegs. "What's up? You look weird."

Steve opened another beer. "Tony Stark just offered to buy some of my artwork and I think he was serious about it."

Bucky laughed. "Holy shit, that's awesome! Dude, you could name your price and he'd probably pay it too."

"My paintings aren't even that great. I sure as hell won't be doing any more after I'm finished with this module."

"So sell up while you can," Bucky said and punched Steve on the arm.

"We'll see. Anyone else here we know?"

Bucky threw an arm across Steve's shoulder. "I don't care. Tonight, I just want to hang with my best bud and dance to..." Bucky cocked his head as the next song started to play. "Oh my God, Cotton Eye Joe!" He laughed and downed a couple of jello shots and then dragged Steve through to the living room which was packed with party goers already dancing.

Steve wasn't usually a dancer but he was high on Bucky's good mood and they danced with everyone else to terrible 90s music. Bucky was drinking two drinks to Steve's one but Steve wasn't too phased. Bucky seemed to be uninterested in any attention from girls tonight, passing up on offers to dance to stick close to Steve. They laughed hysterically as they flung each other around and Steve didn't care how ridiculous he looked.

A few hours later and Bucky was pretty gone. He had an arm permanently around Steve's neck and kept telling anyone who would listen how great Steve was.

"This guy...this guy here is the _best_ guy. You have no idea how... _best_ this guy is," he babbled.

Steve was sure they'd already spoken to this person, a confused looking sophomore with bleached blond hair, but he didn't care. Bucky had been attached to him for the entire night and Steve wasn't too proud to not enjoy it. He had stopped drinking alcohol a couple of hours ago and switched to soft drinks because one of them at least should be coherent enough to get them home and after the day Bucky had yesterday, Steve didn't mind that it was him.

"Okay, Buck. I think he gets it," Steve said, throwing the poor guy, who he wasn't even sure either of them knew, an apologetic look.

"No, no. They have to know how you're the _best_ guy," Bucky's head lolled a little against Steve.

"Whatever you say. We're going to go home now." Steve started to walk them towards the door.

"But Ace Of Base is playing!" Bucky protested.

"Yeah," said Steve, "all the more reason to get going." They waved goodbye to a few people on their way out and headed back to the dorms.

It was cool and still outside and Steve hoped that the fresh air might sober Bucky up a little. He already seemed more alert.

"I'm hungry. Can we go to Taco Bell?" Bucky slipped off of the kerb and Steve tightened his hold around Bucky's waist.

"Taco Bell is twenty minutes out of our way."

"But I'm hungry!" Bucky whined.

"I'll microwave you a Hot Pocket when we get back," Steve said, already regretting that he was as sober as he was.

Bucky sniggered. "Hot Pocket. Sounds _rude_."

Steve pushed his glasses up his nose with his free hand. "Yeah, how'd you figure that?"

"Y'know, like a girl's... _Hot Pocket_."

"First, gross; second, I wouldn't know. Remember?"

Bucky waved an arm around. "Guys have Hot Pockets too though, right?"

"Oh God, I do not want to talk about this," Steve winced.

"I'm talking about their _butts_."

"Yeah, I know. Shut up now."

Bucky snorted. "I bet Thor had a _really_ Hot Pocket."

"Bucky, shut the fuck up."

They made it back to their dorm, Steve having to shush Bucky as he talked way too loudly in the corridor and hustled him quickly into their room, sighing with relief when the door closed behind them. Bucky kicked one of his sneakers off and Steve grabbed a bottle of water from his dresser.

"Before you go to bed, drink some of this, okay?" He stood in front of Bucky and held up the water.

"I'm _fine_ ," Bucky said, a stupid grin on his face.

"I know," Steve said patiently, "but you'll wake up with less of a headache if you drink some water. Just listen to me and stop being a stubborn jerk."

Bucky rolled his eyes and chugged the water. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Happy?"

Steve smiled tiredly. "Very. I'm going to bed now."

Bucky put a hand on Steve's shoulder. "Steve, you really are the _best_ guy. You know that right?"

"I know, you told everyone at the party," Steve said, wearily.

Bucky's hand moved to Steve's neck. " _No_ , you're not listening to me. You're...you're..." Bucky's eyes were flitting over Steve's face.

"Buck, come on. Just - "

Before he could say anything else, Bucky leaned in and kissed him on the lips. Steve jerked away, his eyes wide with shock.

"What...what the hell are you doing?"

Bucky blinked at him, his eyes slightly glassy. "You're just so..." He moved forward again and Steve put his hands on Bucky's chest, pushing him back.

"Buck, stop. You're...you're drunk. Don't..." This wasn't _fair_. Confusion ripped through him; Bucky had been drunk plenty of times like this but he'd never tried to kiss Steve. Why now?

"Steve, I _want_ to...just let me..." Before Steve could do anything, Bucky pulled him back in and his mouth was on Steve's again, soft and a little sloppy but this time, Steve didn't pull away because...he _wanted_ this, however Bucky would give it to him. He'd wanted this for so damn long. He whimpered a little as he kissed Bucky back; it was everything he ever thought it would be, all the times he had dreamt about this and now it was happening. He was dimly aware of a red light in his mind telling him how _wrong_ this was, that Bucky was drunk and he wasn't but the selfish part of Steve over-rode it and he wrapped his arms around Bucky's neck, kissing him harder. Bucky moaned a little into his mouth and Steve's brain officially went offline, his body taking over.

He wasn't sure how long they stood there, making out, Bucky's hands gripping his waist. All Steve knew was that Bucky tasted like vodka and jello and something else, that his lips were soft and sure. He ran a hand through Bucky's hair like he'd always wanted to and he could have cried, it felt so good.

Then Bucky's hands moved from Steve's waist to the front of his jeans and started to fumble with his fly.

Steve's brain snapped back online and the red light in his head turned into a full-on klaxon. He tore himself from Bucky's lips and slapped Bucky's hands away.

Bucky gazed at him, confused and sleepy. "What's wrong?"

"Everything," Steve said, guilt and disgust coursing through him for having taken this whole thing further than he should have. "You're drunk. You don't want me." The words hurt more than he thought they would as soon as they were out.

"Steve, I do, I want you..." Bucky moved to kiss him again and Steve grabbed him by the shoulders, holding him at arms length. "I _want_ you...just let me..."

"No. Why...why now?" Steve was starting to sound desperate.

"Because..." Bucky blinked again and waved a hand incoherently.

Steve turned Bucky around and walked him to his bed, swallowing hard. "Go to bed, Buck." His hands were shaking.

Bucky flopped down onto his bed, mumbling a little but already starting to fall asleep. Steve took his other shoe off and pulled his blankets up, watching as he finally slept. Where the hell had all of that come from? Did Bucky _actually_ want him? He couldn't dare to hope that he did; it would only hurt that much worse when it wasn't true. But now that he knew what it was like to kiss Bucky, to touch him in ways he had only ever fantasized about...he _needed_ to know.

Steve sat on the edge of his own bed, taking a deep breath, still tasting Bucky in his mouth. He would wait and see if Bucky said anything in the morning. He tried to stop it but a spark of hope had started to bloom in his mind.

He didn't get much sleep.

***

Steve awoke to the sound of the door closing. He felt terrible, his head pounding slightly. He rolled over in bed; Bucky's bed was empty. He must have gone to the bathroom. Steve rubbed his face and stared up at the ceiling, thinking about last night. What would Bucky say when he came back into the room? Would it be awkward? Maybe...maybe it wouldn't...maybe things would change. Maybe Bucky really did...

Steve squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, wincing when it hurt a little. _Don't get your hopes up_ , he thought. He sat up in bed and looked at his phone. It was 8:15am. He couldn't even remember what time they had gotten back.

Twenty minutes later, the door opened and Bucky came in wearing his robe and drying his hair, his clothes from last night bunched under one arm. He threw them onto the foot of his bed and smiled when he saw Steve.

"Hey! Sorry if I woke you. Not gonna lie: I feel terrible." He was grinning as he sat down on his bed.

"I'm surprised you're even vertical right now," Steve said, scanning Bucky's face for any indication of what had happened last night.

"My train is in like two hours and I didn't want to risk oversleeping. Christ, what did I drink at the party? My mouth tasted like someone took a shit in it when I woke up." He looked over to Steve, eyes wide. "Please tell me that didn't happen."

Steve chuckled. "You were on beer and vodka jello shots."

Bucky flopped back onto his bed, legs still dangling over the side, groaning. "Did I at least have a good time? I can remember dancing to Cotton Eye Joe and then it all gets dark and fuzzy."

Steve's heart sank. "You don't remember anything after that?" he asked, voice wavering a little even though he knew this was what would happen. Why, after all these years of being secretly in love with his best friend, would things suddenly be any different now?

Bucky caught the falter in Steve's voice and sat up. "What? What did I do?"

He really had no idea; Steve could see it on his face. "You...you nearly woke up the entire dorm when we got back singing Bonnie Tyler at the top of your lungs," he lied, the hurt in his chest like a vice, tight and painful.

Bucky groaned again and buried his face in his pillow. "Nooooo. Total Eclipse Of The Heart?"

"Yep."

Bucky laughed. "I _must_ have had a great time at the party for that one to come out." He rolled onto his side and looked at Steve. "Did you have a good time?"

Steve swung his legs out of bed, unable to talk about this any more. "Yeah, I actually did. Lots of cheesy 90s music. It was fun. I'm going to grab a shower too; got a class in a couple of hours."

The dorm showers were ancient, noisy and clanking. Steve was glad; no-one would hear him weeping.

***

Bucky left for the station with a hug and a promise to pass on Steve's love to Becca and Ethan. He would be back on Sunday and they arranged to get dinner when he returned.

"Thanks again," Bucky said as he was about to walk out of the door. "For everything. I would have fallen apart without you here." He smiled and it may as well have been a sword through Steve's chest. He would never remember what had happened last night and there was no point in telling him; he had been drunk and it would just make things weird between them. Steve would tuck it away with the rest of his hurt and always remember that he at least got to kiss Bucky once.

"You've done the same for me," Steve said softly. "More times than I can count."

Bucky watched him for a moment and then hugged him again. "This doesn't happen much in life. What we have," he said into Steve's shoulder, his voice slightly raw. When he moved away, he was smiling his Bucky Barnes Cheshire Cat smile again. "See you Sunday."

Bucky walked out of the room before Steve could respond. He stood there for a couple of minutes before mechanically getting his bag packed for his class. He spent the rest of the day feeling oddly blank, going through the motions of pretending that his life was fine, that he wasn't being ripped apart from the inside out. He worked, he ate, he joked around with his classmates. He couldn't stop thinking about Bucky.

Steve had forgotten that he was Skyping Peggy that evening until he got a What's App message asking him where he was. He pulled his laptop onto his bed and booted it up. His webcam was broken at the moment for which he was grateful; one look at his face and Peggy would know immediately that something was up. He had no intention of telling her what had happened.

"Hello my darling! I thought you'd forgotten all about me."

Steve smiled. It was great to hear Peggy's voice. He missed that accent like crazy. "Hey Peg. Sorry, it's been a weird few days." He gave her a brief rundown of what had happened with Ethan.

"Oh God, that's terrible. But he's okay now?" she asked.

"Yeah, Bucky's gone back home to see him. He'll be in the hospital for a little while but he's on the mend."

"Are _you_ okay?" Peggy asked. "You sound exhausted." Steve could hear that familiar perceptiveness creeping into her voice.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just tired with my work and we went to a party last night." He laughed and wished he hadn't - it sounded fake and too high pitched. "Still a little hungover."

"Alright," Peggy said, unconvinced.

Steve sighed quietly. He knew that she knew something was up. "So how are you? How's England? How's the weather?"

"Don't try and throw me off by talking about the weather. We're talking about you."

Steve rubbed his forehead. "We always talk about me. I want to talk about the rain in London and Black Pudding. Is it bad that I want to try Black Pudding?"

"Steven," Peggy said in her Super Stern Scary British Voice. "How long have we known each other?"

"Peggy..."

"I'm not an idiot, Steve."

"I'm so fed up of always talking about my shit," Steve said softly. "That's all we talk about. It gets boring."

"But you don't talk to anyone else about it. You're like a pressure cooker - you're going to explode if you don't let it all out. _I_ don't get fed up with it; you're my friend. Now, what's going on?"

Steve was quiet for a few seconds, gathering himself to say it out loud. "Bucky kissed me last night."

It took a lot to render Peggy speechless. " _What?_ " she said after a moment.

"We went to a frat party and Bucky was pretty trashed. We came back here and...and he _kissed_ me. Said he wanted me."

"So he was drunk."

"Yes."

"And you didn't do anything, right?"

Steve didn't say anything.

" _Right_ , Steve?" Peggy said sharply.

"I kissed him back," Steve blurted. "I...I didn't mean to but I just..."

"Oh God! What were you _thinking?_ " He could hear her putting her head in her hands.

"I wasn't thinking, okay? It happened and I let it because I wanted it." His voice broke.

"Oh Steve, that was the worst thing you could have done," Peggy said with a frustrated sigh.

"Well, he didn't remember any of it this morning so it all works out fine," Steve said, starting to cry. "I can just get on with my sad life of being in love with my best friend who says he wants me when he's drunk and feel even worse about myself because now I know how it feels to kiss him and...I just wanted it so badly..."

"Steve," Peggy said softly.

Steve sobbed. "This is why I don't want to talk about me."

"God, I wish I was there with you."

Steve closed his eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for always doing this to you."

"My darling, I'd rather you did. I know how much you think you have to be some kind of brick wall when it comes to your own feelings but you don't. That doesn't mean I'm not going to tell you what an idiot you are for having kissed your _drunk_ best friend though."

"You have no idea what it feels like, to love someone but not have them love you back," Steve said, a bit more harshly than he meant.

Peggy just barked out an amused laugh. "You've obviously forgotten about the tall, blond-haired chap I had a terrible crush on in high school. As I recall, when I let him know how I felt, he came out to me. Did wonders for my chatting-up skills."

"Peggy..."

"I can joke about it now but yes, I have an idea how it feels. I certainly know how it makes _you_ feel and don't ever think that I can't understand. But surely you can see why I'm angry? If you weren't torturing yourself before, what would you call it now?"

Steve sank back on his bed. "Hell," he said.

"You all but threw yourself into that fiery pit, I'm afraid."

"So what do I do?"

"You have the same two options you've always had," Peggy said. "Tell him how you feel or carry on and be a brick wall."

They were both quiet for a while. Peggy was right. She was always right.

"It's raining here," she eventually said.

"It always rains in England," Steve said, tired and drained.

"So what are you going to do?" Peggy asked.

Steve closed his eyes. "What I always do. Nothing."

They made small talk for a little while and said goodbye. Steve put his laptop on the floor and climbed into bed, kicking off his jeans. He turned off his lamp and lay in the dark, remembering the softness of Bucky's lips, how his hands had felt on his waist. He replayed it over and over.

A text came through on his cell phone a little while later.

 **BUCKY:** Hey dude! At the hospital, Ethan is good. Little shit is even asking why I didn't bring him a gift. Looks like he'll be out of here by Saturday. Take care and don't kill yourself in the studio! See you Sunday :)

Steve pulled the covers up to his chin and tried to sleep. At least when he was asleep he didn't feel this bad.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry! Believe me when I say that things will start looking up for Steve soon...!


	5. Real Life Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How do you handle being in love with your best friend? In Steve Rogers's case: Badly.
> 
> A revelation gives Steve a shred of hope...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thanks to everyone for reading this and commenting! We're getting there...!
> 
> Please take the time to look at this lovely fan art inspired by this fic! [here](http://die-munich-rache.tumblr.com/post/145358725417/inspired-by-timeline-written-by-the-fantastic)

Steve tucked a strand of hair behind Pete's ear and rested his head on his pillow. Pete was lying next to him, looking at him with those big brown eyes and he shifted under the covers. Steve felt his belly brush against Pete's thigh.

"I think we should stop seeing each other," Pete said softly. He didn't seem angry or bitter, his voice calm and even.

Steve wasn't surprised by the admission and that said it all really. He sighed a little; he wasn't sure why Pete had decided to break up with him just after they'd slept with each other. "Is that what you want?"

Pete turned onto his back, away from Steve. "No. I really like you, Steve. More than I've liked anyone for a really long time but...this relationship is too one sided. I'm tired of trying and not getting anything back."

Steve knew Pete was right. The last few months especially, Steve had started to shut down. He didn't want it to be this way; he liked Pete a lot too, just...he wasn't Bucky. He had met Pete in a beginners photography evening class in Queens and they had hit it off straight away. Pete was great: witty and talented, slender and sexy in a way that Steve had found exciting, more-so than Thor, his last "relationship" back in college. He had felt like things could actually get serious with Pete. He was a couple of years younger than Steve and worked at a newspaper as a political cartoonist. They had a lot in common and things had been better than Steve could have hoped for; their relationship had been easy and comfortable without getting too boring, even though Bucky liked to joke that everything they did was boring, like watching World War II documentaries and going to art history lectures.

But as was the way with Steve, his feelings for his best friend once again started to encroach on any kind of lasting connection he might have with anyone else and he had started to pull away, unknowingly at first - he had wanted things to work. Then he had started to realize what he was doing and had continued to do it, alienating Pete bit by bit.

"Alright," was all Steve could say.

Pete looked at him for a moment, his face unreadable, and then got out of bed and started to get dressed. "Then I guess that's it," he said.

Steve sat up. "Just like that? I kind of wished we hadn't fucked if this was what you had in mind for the end of the evening."

Pete shook his head as he pulled on his jeans. "Don't say it like that."

"I'm sorry," Steve said. He was the one in the wrong here. He shouldn't be making this harder for Pete. "I wanted it to work. I really did."

"Did you though?" Pete asked quietly, his hair sticking up as he pulled his t-shirt over his head, making Steve want to get up and smooth it down, tell him he was an idiot and that Pete was the best thing to happen to him. He didn't though.

"Of course I did."

Pete chewed on his lip for a moment and then sat down on the end of the bed. "You're completely hung up on Bucky."

"Pete..."

"You _are_. And I can't compete with that." He stared at the carpet. "You're never going to tell him, are you?"

Steve reached out and put his hand on Pete's arm. "Pete, this has nothing to do with Bucky - "

Pete jumped up, batting Steve's hand away as he did. "It has _everything_ to do with Bucky. That's why I'm breaking up with you." He started to gather his things quickly and Steve scrambled out of bed.

"Pete, please. Don't leave angry."

Pete laughed bitterly. "But leave, right?"

Steve ran a hand through his hair, standing stark naked in the middle of his bedroom while his almost-ex-boyfriend opened the drawer Steve had given him in his dresser and started to ram whatever he could into his messenger bag. He turned to look at Steve before opening his bedroom door.

"You know what hurts more? The fact that you're not even bothered by me dumping you," Pete said, the pain finally showing on his face.

Steve felt like an asshole. "I'm sorry. Can we - "

Pete cut him off. "Please don't insult me by asking if we can still be friends. I get to make that call. Bye, Steve." And then he was gone.

Steve stood naked and alone for a moment before hearing the front door of the apartment slam. Then he pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a white t-shirt. He looked at the time; Bucky would be home from work soon. Steve left his room and went to go and make a start on dinner.

So that was that with Pete. He'd screwed up epically but then what else was new? He wasn't looking forward to telling Peggy all about it but there was no way he couldn't; she saw right through him. He also wasn't looking forward to telling Bucky. He wouldn't tell him the whole story though.

He was just adding the honey-mustard mixture to the chicken when Bucky came home, hanging up his jacket and neatly placing his shoes next to Steve's. He smiled when he saw Steve cooking.

"Some of that for me?"

Steve smiled back. This was a regular occurrence for them, Bucky coming home from his job teaching high school English to find Steve cooking dinner. Steve worked part-time at NYU in the history department and was currently writing a book about World War II, having snagged a deal with a publisher. The advance had been pretty good and it meant he could dedicate more time to getting it finished and pitch a few more book ideas if it did well. They were both happy in their work and the apartment they shared wasn't huge but they didn't step on each other's toes. When Steve didn't have Pete over (not a problem anymore), Bucky's girlfriend Natasha could be found lounging on the couch, watching endless crime dramas with her feet up on Bucky's lap as he graded papers.

Steve often indulged in a selfish fantasy that one day he would be cooking just like today and Bucky would come home like he always did, but he would walk over and kiss Steve hello, smiling at him like Steve was everything. It was a nice fantasy.

"Half if you want it," Steve said, stirring the sauce and watching it reduce.

Bucky grabbed a root beer from the fridge. "Pete not hungry?"

"We broke up," Steve said.

Bucky was stunned into silence. Steve wasn't looking at him but he could feel Bucky's eyes on him.

"Wait, what? Since when?" Bucky put his drink down and stepped close to Steve.

"About an hour ago," Steve said and continued to stir the food.

Bucky took the pan off of the hob and moved it aside, then grabbed the spatula from Steve. "Okay, hold up. Talk to me; what the fuck happened?"

Steve sighed. Bucky looked upset, more upset than Steve was. "Things haven't been great for a while. Pete...finally got tired."

Bucky frowned. "There's no way you guys can work it out? Steve, you don't just walk away from a two year relationship like it's nothing."

Steve put the food back on the burner and took the spatula back from Bucky. "He didn't want to work it out. I kind of didn't either."

"But... _why?_ You're crazy about Pete," Bucky said, his brow furrowed. "I don't get it. I thought everything was fine."

Steve shrugged.

Bucky folded his arms. "Dude, you're acting really weird about this."

"What am I meant to do? Cry and eat chocolate?" Steve said, jabbing at a piece of chicken. "It's done. It's over. Pete broke it off and left and I'm trying not to feel like shit about it."

Bucky put a hand on Steve's shoulder. "I'm sorry, okay? It's just that you guys were great together and I didn't know that things were bad. Do you want to talk about it?"

Steve turned to Bucky with a wan smile. "Not really. Can we just eat and watch Futurama or something?"

Bucky looked at him for a moment longer and then nodded, resigned. "I'll get the plates and stuff ready. What is that, rice?" he asked, indicating to the other pan on the stove.

They ate in silence and Steve could feel Bucky watching him every so often from the corner of his eye. He ignored it but as the evening went on, Steve's gut started to hurt but it wasn't from the food. It was revulsion at himself for letting Pete leave feeling the way he had, like he was second fiddle to Steve's best friend and roommate; revulsion that he was more than happy to let Pete go just so he could give all of his attention to Bucky once again.

Steve took their plates to the sink once he had finished and then jerked a thumb towards his room. "I'm not feeling so hot. Think I'm going to call it a night."

Bucky twisted on the couch. "Steve, we can talk about it if you - "

"See you tomorrow," Steve said and left with Bucky's gaze burning into his back.

***

Steve woke up from a restless sleep a couple of hours later. He got up, intending to go to the bathroom and get a glass of water but as he opened his door, he could hear Bucky on his phone in the living room.

"Nat, he's acting really weird, I'm a little worried. Well, like...like he doesn't _care_. That's not Steve at all and Pete was his first real boyfriend, he _adored_ him. He won't tell me anything and he was just like a _robot_ or something. Yeah, I _know_ that but they seemed so happy, I just don't understand..." He heard Bucky sigh. "Waiting for Steve to talk is like waiting for a chimp to write a coherent novel, Nat. I know, I just care about him and Pete was like the best thing to happen to him. Yeah, I will. Okay, love you too."

Steve closed his door and climbed back into bed.

***

He was working from home the next day and decided to stay in bed, too numb and mentally exhausted to write. Steve bundled himself in the covers and dozed for a few hours. Or at least he _thought_ it was a few hours. There was a light tap on his door at some point - he hadn't bothered looking at the time.

"Yeah?" he mumbled.

Bucky opened his door and peered around it. "Steve? Are you okay?" he asked softly.

"Fine. Just wanted a few extra hours this morning."

"It's 8pm," Bucky said, opening the door and stepping into Steve's room. Pete's drawer was still open and empty in Steve's dresser and Bucky frowned at it.

Steve blinked. "You're kidding."

"No," Bucky said slowly. "I got home at five and checked in on you. Have you been in bed all day?"

Steve shuffled up leaned against the wall, rubbing his eyes. "I guess so."

Bucky sat down next to him. "Please talk to me."

Steve picked at his cuticles. "I just wasn't meant to be with anyone."

Bucky's face crumpled in hurt. "Oh Steve, no. What are you talking about?"

Steve rested his head against the wall. "It's my own fault."

Bucky crawled up next to Steve and hugged him. "You can't think that."

Steve buried his head in Bucky's shoulder. "It's true though." _Because I want you_ _and I'll push anyone else away just so I can keep things the way they are_.

"Steve, I don't know what happened and you totally don't have to tell me. I don't need to know who was at fault, if either of you were. I'm here for you, okay? Please don't bottle it all up."

Steve raised his head. "I'm sorry, Buck. I really don't want to talk about it so can we just drop it? I promise if I do want to talk, I'll let you know. I'm just really tired and I can't..."

Bucky rubbed Steve's arm. "Okay, pal. I won't ask anymore. Have you eaten? I was going to make grilled cheese sandwiches."

"With pepperjack cheese?" Steve asked.

Bucky rolled his eyes. "Yes sir. With pepperjack cheese."

They made and ate the sandwiches together with potato chips and beers and Steve wondered if he would ever have a life that wasn't dictated by something he knew he could never have.

***

STEVE: Hey Peg :)

PEGGY: Steve, my darling! How are you?

STEVE: ...

STEVE: ...

STEVE: You know what, I can't even lie to you via instant messenger. Not great.

PEGGY: What is it? :(

STEVE: Pete and I broke up. Or he broke up with me.

PEGGY: What?? What happened?

STEVE: I'm sure you can guess.

PEGGY: ...

PEGGY: ...

PEGGY: Was it because of Bucky?

STEVE: He said I was too hung up on him.

PEGGY: Well, he's not wrong.

STEVE: I didn't mean for it to happen.

PEGGY: Now, I know you won't want to hear this...

STEVE: Pretty sure that's my theme tune.

PEGGY: ...but this will always happen. You'll meet someone and sabotage your relationship with them because they're not Bucky and you can't walk away from him.

STEVE: Of course I can't. He's my best friend.

PEGGY: That's just it, Steve. He's your best friend. He may never be anything more and yet you're denying yourself a life holding onto some fantasy. It's sad.

STEVE: Don't hold back. Tell me what you really think.

PEGGY: I only ever tell you what I really think and you know that I'm right.

STEVE: That doesn't mean I have to agree with or like what you say.

PEGGY: Stubborn asshole. So you're back to your default setting of pining for Bucky again.

STEVE: I guess.

PEGGY: Was it worth driving Pete away for?

STEVE: Are you asking me if Bucky is worth it?

PEGGY: Is he?

STEVE: You already know my answer. 

***

"Rogers, you're doing that thing again."

Steve jerked his attention back to Tony. "Sorry, I was...I got distracted."

"Yeah, no duh," Tony said, fishing the olive out of his drink and tossing it up in the air before catching it in his mouth. "Are you sure you don't want a drink? You look like you could use one."

"Tony, it's 10:45am."

"So? Have some Cheerios with it or something."

Steve picked up his pen again and tried to push thoughts of Pete and Bucky out of his mind for the time being. It had been a week since he and Pete had split. This was work and he needed to focus. Ever since Steve had sold Tony three of his (awful) paintings back in college, Tony had been commissioning him since for work to put in his various offices around the world. It was only ever a few paintings at a time a couple of times a year but the money helped Steve to make more of a living from writing and ensuring that he and Bucky never had to worry about making rent or paying the bills; living in Brooklyn wasn't exactly cheap. He still sketched a lot but he had to admit, he enjoyed painting for Tony; he'd done well for himself after college and outside of his dad's influence too. He was also more than happy to drag people he knew in to do various odd bits of work for him.

"No, I'll pass. I still think the larger canvases would work better in the lobby rather than a few smaller ones. It makes more of a statement," Steve said.

Tony shrugged. "Fine, go with a big canvas for the lobby. As long as it contains yellow and red and is abstract enough that I can bullshit people as to what the _meaning_ is, I'm happy. No rush. Whenever you're good."

Steve couldn't help but smile. Tony was kind of hilarious when he wasn't being obnoxious. " _Bullshit meaning_ ," Steve jotted down in his notebook and Tony snorted. They weren't exactly close but they had become friends. Kind of.

"How goes things with you anywho? Still slumming it in Brooklyn with young Buchanan?"

"Yeah, same old. We're happy though." Steve sipped his coffee. It was so much better than the coffee at home; at least Tony didn't skimp on the food and drink for their business meetings.

"What's the story with you guys, anyway?"

"What do you mean?" Steve asked.

Tony swallowed the rest of his drink. "You know. Are you two boyfriends or what?"

"Uh, no. We're just friends."

Tony snorted again. "Yeah, like heterosexual life partners? Gonna be living together in the same retirement home when you're both ninety?"

Steve grunted and picked at his Eggs Benedict. He wasn't going to come out say that was _actually_ what he wanted.

"I always thought you two were a couple back in college, the way Barnes looked at you all the time." Tony indicated to the waiter for two more drinks.

Wait, _what?_ Steve managed not to drop his fork with a clatter. "What...what do you mean?" he stuttered. Surely he meant the way _Steve_ looked at Bucky?

"He used to look at you like you were...I don't know, something he _really_ liked. What kind of shit is he into? I need something I can use as a comparison."

Steve shook his head impatiently. "He likes all kinds of stuff. What do you mean, the way he _looked_ at me?"

Tony glanced around for the waiter, growing irritated that he didn't have another drink immediately. "At a couple of the parties I threw, he was all doe-eyed and used to stare at you. I always thought it was kind of gay."

Steve deflated a little. "He was drunk. That doesn't mean anything."

The waiter brought over the drinks and Steve pushed his eggs away. He wasn't hungry anymore.

"Finally!" Tony said and grabbed both drinks off of the tray, one of them slopping a little.

"I said I didn't want a drink," Steve scowled.

"I _know_. These are both for me." Tony downed almost an entire glass. "Anyway, it wasn't just at my parties. Remember when Pepper organized that gala thing? For the art department? I remember it _very_ well because it was all _alcohol free_ and was one of the dullest nights of my life but what can I say - I like to support my better half. _Anyway,_ he was eyeballing you all night and I know because I was bored as hell and it was interesting to watch and kind of pathetic."

Steve didn't know what to say. Was this true? Had Bucky really been looking at him back then? Like, _looking_ looking? His mind snapped back to the drunken kiss after that frat party, how Bucky had said he wanted Steve. The gala had been a couple of months after that incident. It didn't make sense; Bucky hadn't remembered the kiss the morning after it had happened and he'd never ever given Steve any indication that he saw him as anything other than a friend.

Tony was watching him. "Yeah, so. Like I said: _interesting_."

"Are you making this up?" Steve asked.

"Steve, I'm a bullshitter but I'm not a liar," Tony said, peering at him over the rim of his drink with a raised eyebrow.

Steve kind of wished he'd gotten a drink after all.

***

He couldn't get into his work when he got home; he ended up typing the same sentence over and over, his notes swimming into meaningless scribbles in front of him, completely distracted by what Tony had told him. All these years he had been looking at Bucky, longing for him...had Bucky really been looking at him back? But whatever Tony had told him, all of that was back in college. Things were different now, Bucky had Natasha who he was in love with. He sure wasn't looking at Steve now and even if what Tony had said was true, Bucky had never done anything about it which meant...which meant it was stupid for Steve to even think about, let alone get his hopes up for. That kiss, the one time Steve had ever come close to getting his heart's desire, had Bucky really not remembered it the next morning? Steve sighed and closed his eyes, leaning back in the desk chair in his cramped little work space in the corner of the living room. If Bucky _had_ remembered what he had done, he was a hell of a good actor.

Steve tried to work, if not with his writing then with some ideas for Tony's canvases but it was no use. He couldn't concentrate. He went for a walk and grabbed a coffee from his favorite coffee place, wandering aimlessly down streets and through Prospect Park. It started to get overcast and then the clouds turned heavy and dark. It started to rain at some point but Steve didn't care. He just shoved his hands into his pockets and continued to walk. He almost wished that Tony hadn't told him what he did; it added a whole new level of confused pain to Steve's hurt.

Bucky was home when Steve finally returned to the apartment. He frowned at Steve's damp state.

"Where were you? I tried calling but you left your cell here."

Steve took off his jacket and hung it in the hall. His hair was soaked and water dribbled down the collar of his shirt. "Sorry, I went for a walk. Lost track of time."

Bucky grabbed the hand towel from the kitchen and threw it over Steve's head. "You're drenched. Go and have a hot shower before you catch a cold or something."

Steve smirked. "Buck, colds are viruses. I couldn't catch one from being wet." He dabbed at his damp head.

"Okay, smart ass," Bucky fired back, "but you can sure as hell get a kidney infection or pneumonia or some shit so just do what Mama Bucky says."

"Will you come and wipe my ass for me when I poop too?"

Bucky made a face. "Yeah, too far. Go shower."

Steve felt a little better after his shower and he and Bucky spent the rest of the evening watching some terrible sci-fi movie on TV.

"How was your meeting with Tony?" Bucky asked, shoving a stack of Pringles into his mouth.

"Pretty good," Steve said. "He commissioned me to paint something for the Tokyo office." He didn't mention Tony's revelation. He had been watching Bucky out of the corner of his eye for a couple of hours now and all Bucky had been focused on was the TV.

Bucky whistled. "Sweet." He shifted on the couch. "Natasha asked me again about moving in with her."

"Oh yeah?" Steve said. He tried not to panic. Natasha had been wanting to move in with Bucky for the better part of a year.

"Yeah. I said I wanted to hang on. I mean, it's nice that we have our own space for now."

Steve relaxed a little. He still had Bucky for a while yet. "What did she say?"

Bucky rolled his eyes. "She called me a perpetual man-child and said I'm too scared to move on."

"Move on from what?" Steve asked.

Bucky put his feet up on the coffee table. He had a hole in the toe of one sock. "From living like a bachelor. What's wrong with that?"

Steve was dreading the day in which Bucky actually _did_ move out. He liked how all of their stuff looked together, how they shared their space together. He always had. He didn't want to think about a time when Bucky's toothbrush wasn't next to his in the bathroom cabinet, or when their CD and DVD collections were split up. He would even miss the ugly mismatched plates and mugs that Bucky refused to throw away that he'd had since college. It wouldn't be the same to not share the same space as Bucky, to share the same air. Steve needed it as much as he needed oxygen.

"Natasha's okay with you turning her down again?"

"She's pretty laid back. She knows I'm not _quite_ there yet." He turned to look at Steve. "How are you doing? I mean with the whole Pete thing. Have you heard from him?"

Steve picked at the threadbare arm of their couch. "No. I tried texting but I didn't get a reply. I can understand him not wanting to speak to me. I need to give him space." Steve felt a little guilty. He hadn't really given Pete much thought this last week, certainly not today; he was currently feeling more concern with Bucky one day moving out.

Steve liked Natasha a lot; Bucky had met her in a club a couple of years ago and she complimented Bucky's charm and goofy nature with her dry wit and calmness. Steve had wanted to hate her, even though hate was a strong word, but they got on well. He knew how serious she was about Bucky and wanting to move to the next level in their relationship but the selfish part of him was _glad_ that Bucky wasn't ready to move on. After his business breakfast with Tony, his mind was now working overtime, wondering just _why_ he didn't want to move on. It was a dangerous way to think, giving him a slim hope that he knew would only hurt him in the long run.

"Sorry, dude," Bucky said and reached across the couch to pat Steve on the shoulder. He had Pringles crumbs on his shirt. "I'm sure you can be friends in the future."

"Maybe," Steve said.

***

For the next week, things went like they usually did. They worked and hung out and nothing changed. Bucky invited Steve to the movies and dinner with him and Natasha one evening and Steve got the feeling that Natasha hadn't expected him but she smiled and joked and stole Steve's fries when he wasn't looking. Natasha was awesome; she always seemed so put together, more grown up than both him and Bucky. She worked in Manhattan as a financial advisor but also "dabbled" in real estate, as she put it. She wanted Bucky to move into one of the apartments she owned with her and as much as Steve didn't want him to move out, he couldn't understand why Bucky wanted to stay in their expensive not-huge apartment with the fluctuating hot water and kitchen cupboard doors that occasionally fell off, when he could live in a newly furbished swanky apartment. Tony's revelation still bounced around in his brain but with each day that went by, it seemed like whatever had made Bucky look at him in the past, if he ever had, was no longer something that existed.

One evening, Steve got back from lecturing at NYU, earlier than he had planned and Bucky and Natasha were having dinner together. There were candles on the table and Steve immediately felt like he should have stayed out.

"Oh, sorry. I'll just grab something to eat and go to my room." He fumbled in the kitchen.

"Dude, it's fine. Do you want to join us?" Bucky asked.

Steve glanced at Natasha and even though she appeared calm, he could see the slightest tensing of her shoulders. Even though deep down he wished Bucky was single, he wasn't the kind of asshole to deliberately interrupt what was obviously a dinner meant for two.

"Thanks but I'm pretty keyed up," Steve said, hastily throwing together a sandwich. "Want to try and get two chapters locked in tonight."

He quickly went to his room but not before hearing Natasha say something to Bucky in a low annoyed voice.

***

Time passed. Some things had never changed between Bucky and Steve and one of those things, much to Steve's eternal irritation, was Bucky trying to set him up with other people. Steve was working on the couch with his book notes spread across the coffee table, trying to jot down any references he might need for his bibliography and Bucky was making sandwiches for them both in the kitchen.

"You should hit up Tinder again," Bucky said.

Steve threw him a look over his shoulder. "I've just gotten out of a relationship."

"Two months ago," Bucky shot back.

"Yeah and I'm not ready to throw myself back out there. I just want to...take a break."

Bucky brought him a sandwich, nudging aside his notes. "It might do you good. You know, get your confidence back up."

Steve took a bite out of his sandwich and scribbled on a post-it note. "My confidence is fine. I don't need to go on a series of dates; that'll just knock it back down again."

"You matched with a fair few guys though. Why not just fuck around?"

Steve made a face. "When have you _ever_ known me to do that?"

"Thor," Bucky said with a pointed look.

"Oh my God, will you stop saying that? We were in a relationship!"

"For _three weeks_ and that was all just sex."

"You're never going to shut up about that, are you?" Steve glared at Bucky.

Bucky grinned. "We'll be old dudes sitting on a porch in rockers and pissing in our britches and I'll _still_ rib you about it."

Steve thought back to Tony saying almost exactly the same thing. "You assume I'll put up with you for that long."

"Of course you will. You can't stand to be without me."

Steve huffed and took another bite of his sandwich. "Whatever. This discussion is over. No Tinder, no fucking around."

Bucky threw his head back. "Ugh, Steve! Would you just - "

"No, Buck. Come on, I mean it," Steve snatched up some of his notes.

Bucky sighed but didn't say another word. He took both of their plates over to the kitchen.

"I just want you to be happy," he finally said.

Steve's hand clenched around his pen. "I can be happy and not be in a relationship. In fact, it seems to work out better for me when I'm not."

"Steve..." Bucky sounded sad.

Steve turned around on the couch and looked at Bucky. "I'm not saying it like that. I just mean that for the time being, I want to be on my own. I have everything I need right now."

Bucky rested his hands on the kitchen counter and considered him. For a moment, Steve wasn't sure he liked the way Bucky was looking at him, like he could actually _see_ what Steve really meant and he was scared. Bucky knowing could go either way. How could a friendship continue the way it had when something so big was revealed? Regardless of how Bucky would react, _everything_ would change and nothing between them would ever be the same.

Bucky just made a frustrated but accepting noise and shrugged. "Okay. Okay, fine. Can we drink beer and watch cat videos on YouTube now?"

Steve was more than happy to put aside his work and do both.

***

Things suddenly got a bit busier for both of them. Steve was almost finished with his book and spent almost all of his spare time pushing to get the manuscript completed. He was covering for another History professor at the university and welcomed the extra cash, even if it meant pulling later nights to get his book done. Bucky was bringing more papers home to grade so for a while they were like ships in the night. Natasha was over less too and Steve didn't give it another thought, too wrapped up in work and his feelings for Bucky.

Steve sent a not-quite-but-almost-there draft of his book to his editor, hoping that she could help him iron out the last few kinks and decided to give himself a much deserved evening off. Natasha was staying the night so Steve thought he would make himself an early dinner and then go and see a movie to give Bucky and Nat some alone time. He was stirring his pasta sauce when his cell rang.

"Hey Steve," Bucky sounded frazzled. "Can you do me a favor? There's been an accident on the Brooklyn Bridge and I'm totally stuck in traffic that doesn't look like it's shifting and I can't get through to Nat. I think she's on her way over and I'm going to be an hour late at least; could you text or call her for me? Tell her there's an accident and it's all over the traffic news; that way she can't call me on bullshit."

"Why would she?" Steve asked, adding a little more salt to the sauce.

Bucky grunted. "Because apparently I've been full of it for the last few weeks. I don't know. She's got a bee in her bonnet about something. I was hoping we could smooth things out tonight but I guess the universe isn't on my side at the minute." Bucky's phone started to crackle. "Shit, my signal's breaking up. Just call her for me, would you?"

"Sure thing. I'll stick around and keep her company until you get back," Steve said.

"Thanks Pal. I'll see you - " Bucky's phone cut out.

Steve tried to call Nat but it went through to her answer service. He was in the middle of texting her when there was a knock on the door. It was Natasha.

"Hi Nat," Steve said, stepping aside to let her in. "I was just trying to call you - Bucky's stuck on the Brooklyn Bridge. There's been some kind of accident and he's going to be late."

Natasha took off her jacket and hung it up. "I heard on the radio. No problem. I'll wait." She seemed a little off.

"You're welcome to join me for dinner," Steve said. "I always make too much. It's just spaghetti."

Natasha smiled. "Sure. I'd like that."

She helped him with the salad and then set the table. They sat and ate and it was pleasant; they had always gotten on well, the three of them. Things never felt strained or awkward with Natasha and Steve was glad that Bucky had found her, even if it meant that there was a little bit of extra pain inside him whenever he caught them kissing or snuggled up together on the couch. He just added it to the rest, pushing it down as far as it would go.

When they had finished, Natasha sat staring into her glass of beer, distant.

"Everything okay?" Steve asked.

Natasha didn't answer for a moment. "I'm going to break up with Bucky."

Steve was floored. "What?"

She looked up. "I came over tonight to break up with him. Things have been crappy between us for a while but Bucky's been pretty oblivious to it. Any time I try to bring it up, he blows me off. I'm getting tired of it."

"I...but...why are you telling _me_ this?"

Natasha met his eyes. Hers were green and piercing. "Because I know you'll blame yourself."

Steve frowned. This was horrible; he didn't want to know that Bucky was going to get dumped before Bucky did. "Why would I blame myself?"

"Because I know how you feel about him."

Steve blinked. "I...I don't know what you're..." It sounded weak, even to him.

Natasha leaned across the table and grabbed his hand. "I'm not angry. I need you to know that."

"Nat, I would never _ever_ do anything to...I..." he blustered. So much for acting smooth.

"I know, Steve. I guessed a long time ago and for a while, I thought...I thought you might do something but that's not you."

Steve rubbed his forehead with a shaky hand. "Please don't tell Bucky."

"I wouldn't. It's not for me to tell."

Steve looked at her. "But...it's one of the reasons you're breaking up with him. Because of me."

"It is and it isn't and it's by no means your fault. I'm not here to make you feel bad, Steve."

Steve was having a hard time swallowing. Natasha's hand was firm on his and he wanted to pull away. "Well, I feel fucking terrible."

Natasha sighed and swept her red hair out of her eyes. "You have to know that...okay, you're a small part of the problem but it's not entirely about you. Not for me anyway."

"What does _that_ mean?" Steve asked, finally wrenching his hand back.

"I've asked Bucky to move in with me more times than I can count. We're both twenty-seven and I've been wanting to take our relationship to the next level for a while and he just _won't_. He acts like it's _nothing_ , making jokes and brushing aside anything important I try to say and I can't do it anymore. He's stuck in this weird little bubble of denial and he's not being honest with himself or me and I just can't do it."

Steve was growing more confused. "Denial? What are you talking about?"

Natasha clenched her jaw and waved a hand at the apartment. "This, you. It's...everything. It's not working. He wants his life to stay the same and I don't. We want different things and I feel like my own life is grinding to a halt."

"And part of that is my fault?" Steve asked. His dinner sat heavy in his stomach.

"No," Natasha said with a reassuring look. "It's not your fault. You're...part of the problem but it's not because of anything you've done. Given your feelings towards Bucky, I actually don't know how you manage this; watching him with someone else."

This was all too much. Natasha was breaking up with Bucky and she knew how Steve felt and no matter how many times she said it wasn't the case, it was partly his fault. He stood up, his chair scraping loudly on the hardwood floor and started to gather the plates and cutlery. "Why are you doing this? What...what am I meant to feel about this situation? You tell me not to feel bad and then say it's my fault." He span away from the table and walked over to the sink, dumping the dishes with a loud clatter. He grasped the edge of the kitchen counter.

Natasha got up and walked over to him. "I know you'll put the blame on yourself because that's the kind of person you are but that's _not_ what I'm saying. Look, I've done this all wrong. I just...I needed to talk to you so - "

"So what?" Steve said, determined not to cry in front of her. "So I can stand here and watch my best friend's heart break when you dump him? What was the point of telling me, Nat?"

Natasha folded her arms, her face hard. "Bucky's not happy and he's certainly not happy with me, that much is clear. He has a lot of issues he just won't face, one of which is - "

Steve held his hands up. "Please don't talk about him like this in front of me, it's completely disrespectful. I don't want to know all of this before he does, it's not fair on him." He yanked his jacket off of the coat hook. "I'm going to the movies. If you care about Bucky, you'll never tell him that you told me all of this. Goodnight, Nat."

He stepped outside and closed the front door before she had a chance to say anything else. He practically ran down the four flights of stairs and burst out onto the street, heaving in all the fresh air that he could. He looked around; he had to get out of here before Bucky came back because if he saw Steve he would immediately know that something was up and he would be crushed that Natasha had told Steve what she had. It was bad enough that at the moment Bucky was on his way home, none the wiser that his evening was going to turn into a nightmare. Steve wiped his eyes and headed towards the subway station, his mind and heart a complete mess.

***

Steve couldn't focus on the movie; he kept wondering if Bucky was home and what was going on. Would they fight? Would they still be fighting when he got back? He chewed his nails, wishing this whole thing hadn't happened. Why had Natasha decided to do this now and the way that she had? Bucky would be devastated; sure, he wasn't ready to move in with her now but he would eventually, right? Steve played back as much of the conversation in his head that he could remember.

Natasha had said that Bucky was in denial; denial of what? Why did everything have to be so goddamn _cryptic_. He shifted in his seat not knowing what the hell was going on in the movie. Part of him had thought that he would feel a little glad if Bucky was ever single again but he didn't. He felt terrible. As much as she kept saying it wasn't his fault, Steve was part of the problem. He still wasn't entirely sure why; because he and Bucky were so close? Because they lived together? Maybe it was better that he didn't know.

After the movie, he wandered to a bar and had a couple of beers on his own. It was only 9:30pm and he wanted to try and stay out as long as he could; he didn't want to walk in on Bucky and Natasha mid-break-up.

***

Steve carefully unlocked the apartment and crept inside the door after listening through it for a few minutes. It was sometime after 1am. The kitchen and living room were empty and dark. As he walked down the hallway, he could hear raised voices in Bucky's room; they were fighting. He quickly ducked into his own bedroom, not wanting to hear what was being discussed. He changed into his bed t-shirt and shorts and jammed in his ear buds, turning up the music on his iPod. This was so awful. He needed something to do so he snatched his sketchbook from his bedside table and started to draw; dogs, trees, people, _anything_ to keep from going crazy. He finally started to get angry. Damn Natasha for putting him in this position and making him feel like this.

A little after 3am, he heard the apartment door slam and he pulled out his ear buds. Everything was deathly silent. He assumed that it was Natasha who had left. There was a soft knocking on his bedroom door a moment later and his stomach turned. What had Natasha told Bucky? Would he be angry? Would he agree that Steve was part of the problem as Nat had said and resent him? Worse than all of that: Would he know how Steve really felt about him?

"Come in," Steve said, closing his sketchbook.

The door opened and Bucky looked drained, his eyes red. He didn't look angry at Steve, just...heartbroken. Steve's own heart broke for him.

"Did I wake you?" Bucky asked and his voice was rough.

"No, I can't sleep."

Bucky looked down at the carpet. "Nat broke up with me," he said. He sounded small.

"Oh Buck, I'm so sorry," Steve said and he was: Sorry at this whole fucking situation, sorry for his friend.

Bucky shuffled in and sat on the end of Steve's bed. He was still in his work shirt, his tie loose. Steve moved down the bed and sat with him. Bucky's shoulders were hunched.

"Did she say why?" Steve asked.

Bucky chewed his lip. "Because I won't move in with her and make a commitment. Because I'm still living the way I am and won't take anything seriously. She said I took her for granted and...and I can't argue with that. I did." He raked a hand through his hair. "I thought we were okay, you know? Things seemed alright. But then the more she talked tonight, I realized that maybe...maybe I really didn't want to move in with her. I want this - " he shrugged at the apartment, " - and I wanted her too but...I didn't want things to change." He frowned a little, thinking. Steve watched him closely; what else had she said?

Steve put his arm across Bucky's shoulder. "I'm sorry," he said again.

Bucky let out a shuddery breath. "Yeah. I'm just...really confused. I was angry when she started to reel off all these problems and they were _all_ mine. I mean, Nat's not perfect but...she was right. All this time she'd put more into the relationship than I had."

Steve thought about Pete and how he had done the same. He had pushed Pete away, taken him for granted. Pete had wanted more but Steve had always just brushed it off so he could have Bucky. "Is there any way to..." Steve asked but knew what answer he wanted to hear.

Bucky shook his head. "The damage is done. Nat doesn't want any more." He looked up at Steve and his mouth twisted in a grim smile. "Just you and me again."

Steve squeezed Bucky's shoulder. "That's never been a bad thing."

Bucky sighed and closed his eyes. "I'm so fucking tired. Can I...can I sleep in here tonight?"

"Of course you can," Steve said and they both climbed into bed, Bucky not even bothering to take off his clothes.

They lay side by side after Steve switched off his lamp, not touching and before long Bucky's breathing evened and deepened into sleep. Steve stared into the darkness. A thought occurred to him: the few times they had ever shared a bed or lain together had always been instigated by Bucky. Steve had never asked and had always taken what contact Bucky had been willing to give him. More thoughts came then; the realization that between them they had few friends. Sure, there was Tony and Clint who Steve had stayed in contact with and met up for drinks with occasionally, and Peggy obviously, but no-one else. Everyone at work was a colleague. Bucky sometimes spoke about the other teachers at his school but never with anything more than a detached passing. They spent their evenings together, their weekends together. Pete had left Steve because of Bucky. Nat had left Bucky partly because of him.

He listened to Bucky's breathing and thought about everything Nat had said.

***

When Steve woke up, Bucky wasn't next to him and he felt disappointed; he had been pathetically hoping that he would feel Bucky's warmth next to him. He almost laughed: There was that selfishness again. Bucky had just been dumped and all Steve could think about was himself. He threw off his covers and went to the bathroom, splashing his face with cold water.

Bucky was sitting on the couch with a cup of coffee, still in last night's clothes. He glanced up at Steve when he sat down next to him.

"Hey," he said quietly. "Thanks for letting me sleep in your room. Just didn't want to be alone."

"Any time," Steve said. "How are you feeling?"

"Pretty shit," Bucky said.

"Is there anything I can do?" Steve asked. He wasn't sure he wanted to ask about what Natasha had talked to Bucky about in any depth.

Bucky smiled at him, grateful. "You're already doing it."

***

Understandably, Bucky was quiet and detached for the next week. He went to work and came home, often lost in thought in the evenings. Steve tried his best to help but he understood that Bucky wanted to be left alone. He had been the same after his break up with Pete. He made them dinner and did their laundry and Bucky would offer him an appreciative nod in thanks. All Steve could do was be there for him. A few times, he thought Bucky had been on the verge of saying something to him but he would withdraw at the last moment, or at least that's how it felt to Steve.

He himself was constantly on edge; Natasha had said that she wouldn't tell Bucky about Steve's feelings towards him but what if it had come out in some way? Bucky had never been this despondent after a break up and Steve was starting to worry.

Another week passed and a couple of times, Steve caught Bucky watching him, a thoughtful look on his face. He hid it well; Steve could have attributed it to his own wishful thinking. Something had changed though, Steve could feel it. His stomach was a constant knot of anticipation and fear, like he was waiting for Bucky to say or do something.

Steve returned home from work one afternoon, happy because of a positive email from his editor telling him he was nearly there with his book, to find Bucky's suitcase and a few smaller bags in the hallway. Steve immediately started to panic. Bucky was sitting on the couch and he got up and walked over to Steve, hands in his pockets, like he had been waiting for him to come home. He shouldn't be back from work this early.

"Hey," he said.

Steve twisted his hands together. "Buck? What's going on?"

"I've taken some time off of work. I'm going home for a few weeks."

"But..."

Bucky stepped towards Steve. "It's nothing to worry about. I just need some time to clear my head and...I don't know; reassess things a little."

"You're coming back though?" Steve asked and he wished he didn't sound as pathetic as he did.

Bucky's face softened. "Of course I am. I've been thinking about what Natasha said, about my life and where it's going. It's long overdue."

Steve nodded and tucked his hands under his armpits. "Okay."

Bucky looked at Steve and it was almost like he was _seeing_ him for the first time. Steve's heart started to pound.

"You know I care about you, right?" Bucky finally said quietly, his face indecipherable. Steve didn't like that he couldn't tell what Bucky was thinking; usually Bucky was an open book.

"I care about you too," Steve said, pained.

Bucky grabbed him in a hard embrace and Steve clutched him back, suddenly worried that Bucky _wasn't_ coming back.

Bucky pulled away and wiped his eyes. "I'll give you a call when I'm home." He gathered his bags and went to the door.

"Bye Buck," Steve said and everything in his tone said _please please come back_.

Bucky turned around and gave Steve his _Bucky_ smile, a little more melancholy than it usually was. "Bye Steve." He closed the door behind him.

As Steve stood there alone, he realized that he and Bucky had both pushed people away all of these years to cling onto this life together, both selfishly building a wall around themselves. Whatever happened now, things would be different when Bucky returned, for better or for worse.

That night, Steve did something he hadn't done for a long time: He took his dad's dog tags out of their box and held them as he tried to sleep.

 

 

 


	6. Real Life Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How do you handle being in love with your best friend? In Steve Rogers's case: Badly.
> 
> Things finally get said...

The apartment was so quiet without Bucky there. Steve ate alone and watched TV alone. It was strange, almost like there was a Bucky-shaped hole in every room. There was one inside Steve's heart too. He went to work and wrote and started on Tony's painting, setting up his easel and paints over by the window, all the while missing Bucky horribly. He had been gone for a week but it felt like months; his life with Bucky was part of who he was and now...now it was balancing on a knife edge. He had heard from Bucky - several texts and one hasty phone call - but he had no idea how things were between them. Bucky had said that he needed time to think but Steve wasn't sure about what. Had Natasha let slip about his feelings for Bucky? She had promised not to but anything could have been said the night they had broken up.

Steve tried hard not to think too much about it, throwing himself even more into his work. He was teaching an additional class, covering for another lecturer on sabbatical and tried to pretend that he had a normal life. Nothing felt normal at the moment.

He had finished dinner one evening and was watching some terrible sitcom that he couldn't be bothered to even change channels from when his mom called.

"Stevie! How are you?"

Steve turned off the TV and smiled. "Hey Mom. I'm good. A little tired. How are you? How's the hospital?"

"Not too bad. I've actually reduced my hours, if you can believe it," Mrs Rogers said.

Steve gave an exaggerated gasp. "Oh my God, are you okay? You must be sick or something."

"Laugh it up, wise guy. I figured I owed myself a break."

"I'm really happy to hear it. I bet Hank finally talked you into it, huh?" Steve said.

"It took him a few years but yes. Between the two of you, it was inevitable. The nagging was starting to grate."

Steve was happy; his mom had worked so hard over the years and Hank was very well off but had never wanted Sarah to feel anything but independent with her finances, making it clear that he wanted to take care of her and Steve but never forcing the issue. They had finally gotten married and moved in together a few years back and Steve couldn't have been happier. Hank was an important person in his life and had never let him or his mother down. Steve had been the Best Man at their wedding, a modest ceremony at Hank's beach house in Cape Cod. Bucky had been there too, standing proudly next to Steve, jokingly referring to himself as the Best Man's best man.

"How's Hank?" Steve asked.

"He's good; he misses you. You and Bucky are still coming to Cape Cod over summer vacation, right? I know he's itching to take you both fishing on his new boat."

Steve hesitated for a second. That had been the plan; he assumed Bucky still wanted to go. "As far as I know. He hasn't said otherwise. I wouldn't miss it."

"How is Bucky?"

Steve hadn't told his mom that Bucky had gone home; she would ask too many questions and he wasn't sure if he had it in him to tell her everything. "He's good; busy like me, you know Buck. I have to go, Mom; I'm trying to get this painting done for Tony. I'll call you at the weekend?"

"Alright, sweetheart. Take care," said Mrs Rogers.

"I will. Give my love to Hank." Steve hung up.

He sat for a moment in the quiet apartment, turning his phone over his hand. He wanted to call Bucky just to hear his voice but he knew that it would be a bad idea. Whatever Bucky needed time with, it probably wouldn't help if Steve was calling him every two minutes.

He flung his phone to the end of the couch and walked over to his easel, intent on taking out his frustrations on his art instead.

***

Scott was in town for a few days with work and called to ask Steve if he wanted to get dinner and catch up. He was the same as he'd been in high school - funny, slightly manic and pleasant. Steve jumped at the chance to meet up; he and Bucky had stayed in touch with Scott even though he had gone to UCLA. Facebook made things easier and they messaged occasionally too. Steve got home from work and had a quick shower before getting changed and heading out.

"Steve! Holy shit, you look great!" Scott was waiting for him outside of the restaurant and gave him a bone-crushing hug.

Steve laughed and hugged him back. "You too, man. The West Coast seems to suit you."

Scott nodded, still grinning. "I tell you, San Francisco is amazing. Best move I ever made. New York treating you right?"

"So far. How's Hope?"

Scott opened the door to the restaurant and they walked in. "She's great. She sends her love."

They chatted over dinner, catching up on the usual stuff like work and family. Steve drank a little more wine than he intended to and as the evening wore on, started to think too much about the past and Bucky.

As if reading his mind, Scott said, "It's a shame Buck is out of town. I'd have liked him to come too. It's been a few years."

"Yeah, he had some family stuff to sort out," Steve said carefully.

Scott picked up the dessert menu. "I still can't believe that you two live together. Most friendships don't last so long outside of high school. I mean, I'm glad we all still stay in touch and all but you two must have a solid thing going if you can still stand to see each other every day."

"I guess," Steve said weakly. He bit the inside of his cheek, thinking. Suddenly, he wanted to know if Bucky had ever looked at him the way Tony had seemed to think he had way before college. "Scott, when we were in high school, how did...how did Bucky seem towards me?"

Scott looked up at him, his nose wrinkling in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Steve took a breadstick from the basket in the centre of the table and started to break it into pieces, just to give himself something to focus on. "How did he act around me?"

"Um, like your friend? I'm not entirely sure what you're getting at, dude."

"Did he ever look at me? Like...like I wasn't a friend?"

Scott rested his elbows on the table. "What, like he didn't like you? No, never. Why would you even think that?"

Steve shook his head, crushing one of the fragments of breadstick under his thumb. "No, no. I mean...like I was _more_ than a friend."

Scott's eyebrows arched up in surprise. "Um, wow. I don't think so?" He seemed to be thinking, back to their high school days maybe. "Not that I ever remember. Why, has something happened?"

"No. Well, not that Bucky knows of." Steve sighed and sat back in his chair. "A few people have said stuff in the last couple of months that have made me think that things haven't always been the way I thought they were."

Scott watched him for a moment. "Well, even if that is true, you can't let it drive you apart. You can't just push Bucky away if he has feelings towards you and you don't feel the same - "

Steve couldn't help but laugh and Scott frowned. "Scott, no. Sorry, I must sound like a complete asshole. It's..." Steve almost changed the subject but then he thought _fuck it_. "It's _me_. I've been in love with Bucky since I was eleven years old and I always thought...I always _assumed_ it was one-sided but certain people seem to think that there's something more there on his part and I've never seen it myself. I just wondered if I'm an idiot and have been completely oblivious to something that I thought was never there."

Scott blinked, obviously not having expected the evening to take this turn. "Okay. Wow again. I had no idea. When you came out in high school I never thought you liked _Bucky_ ; I mean, you two were joined at the hip but I never got the impression that you liked him like that or he liked you that way."

"That's what I thought," Steve said. "Sorry Scott. I didn't intend to bring the evening down like this."

Scott gave Steve a sympathetic look. "You haven't. It's obviously a big thing for you. Have you told anyone else?"

"Just Peggy but a couple of other people seem to have guessed."

"Well, it's news to me but then I was a always a bit behind the curve. Sixteen years is a long time to be secretly in love with someone."

Steve gazed at a couple across the room. They were holding hands across their table and laughing softly together. "Yeah," he said quietly.

Scott watched him for a moment. "What would you have to lose by telling him?"

Steve looked down at the fragments of breadstick on the table in front of him. "Everything."

"Well, I don't believe that. Could telling him be worse than living with all that pain? Because dude, you're in pain."

Steve was about to say something else, to make another excuse but what was the point? "I'm so scared," he said and he sounded more vulnerable than he ever had.

"Do you really want to go through your whole life with that "what if" hanging over you?" Scott said.

"But you know Bucky; don't you think he would have said something to me by now if he even remotely felt the same way?"

Scott shrugged. "What makes you think that he doesn't feel the exact same way and won't say anything to you for _exactly_ the same reasons? How would you feel knowing that and the two of you may have been wasting all these years when you could have been together?"

"Has Bucky ever appeared anything other than absolutely straight to you in all the years you've known him?" Steve fired back. He didn't want to think too hard about whether Scott might be right.

"No," Scott said evenly, "but he might be way way _way_ in the back of the closet for all we know." He chuffed out a laugh. "Man, I didn't think I'd be spending my evening trying to unravel a friend's sexuality."

"Scott, I'm sorry - "

"Steve, I'm glad you trusted me enough to talk about this. I just wish I could be more help."

"I know," Steve said, feeling bad that he'd brought his shit to the literal table. "Thanks Scott. It was nice to be able to talk."

Scott indicated to the waiter for the check. "My pleasure. I wish we weren't on opposite sides of the country and could do this more often."

"At least let me get this?" Steve said, taking his wallet from his pocket.

Scott beamed. "Far be it from me to turn down a fool's money." His smile softened. "But at least think about what we've talked about? If there's a chance that you could be truly happy, you should take it."

Steve returned Scott's smile but it was lacking. "I'll think about it."

***

Steve was almost finished with Tony's commission; it was one of the biggest pieces he'd ever done - a huge 8x6 foot canvas. He would be glad to have it completely finished as it had been blocking the window in the living room. It was fitting really, that Bucky had left and some of the light had gone from the apartment. Steve huffed out a laugh at the thought; he was the one who had put the damn thing there, much like his own feelings were making him so unhappy.

It was Saturday morning and Tony was coming over to check out Steve's work. He put some decent coffee on, hoping that Tony wouldn't rib him about his poor taste like he had done last time, and checked his phone. There was a text from Bucky.

 **BUCKY:** Hey dude! Hope all is well; everything good here. Been spending a lot of time with Ethan and Becca. Miss you.

Steve stared at the "miss you", his brow furrowed. Was there anything to read into that? He didn't know anymore. God, he could dissect every conversation, every touch that had passed between the two of them and he'd still be none the wiser. The only thing that had ever held some certainty for him was the kiss back in college and Bucky hadn't even remembered doing it. Steve bit his lip and started type.

 **STEVE:** Hey! Good to hear. Send Becca and Ethan my love. Miss you too.

Steve sighed and hit send. What could he really text other than that? There was an incessant rapping on the front door and Steve groaned. He had at least been hoping that Tony would buzz up first but he'd somehow managed to get into the building, no doubt having charmed his way in through a neighbor.

Steve answered the door and Tony swanned in, wearing a white fedora and sunglasses.

"Hey Steve. I hope you have coffee. I need coffee. Good coffee, not the slop you tried to give me last time."

Steve closed the door. "Sure, Mr Del Monte. Can I take your hat for you? Are your pockets full of tinned peaches?"

Tony gave Steve a you're-not-funny look but took off his hat and tossed it on the kitchen counter. "How are things with you?"

"Not bad," Steve said and poured Tony a cup of coffee, handing it to him. Tony sniffed it, sipped it with a squinch on his face but then gave Steve an approving nod.

Steve poured himself some in one of Bucky's ugly coffee mugs. He had been eating and drinking from all of Bucky's mis-matched crockery since he had left. Steve was well aware that this was a new kind of pathetic low for him but at least he wasn't using Bucky's toothbrush which he'd forgotten to take home with him. That didn't mean Steve hadn't considered it though.

"So where's my painting?" Tony asked.

Steve nodded towards to the window. Tony took his sunglasses off and stared at the painting for a few moments from where he was standing. Then he walked over to it and considered it close up. Steve took a nervous sip of his coffee. He still got anxious whenever he showed Tony a new piece; art was like baring your mind for everyone to see and pick over which was one reason Steve had decided to not take up art in any professional capacity. He'd have an ulcer by now otherwise.

Tony hadn't spoken for a while and Steve shifted from foot to foot.

"Well?" he said after what had felt like an hour.

Tony didn't take his eyes off of the canvas. "I think it's the best work you've ever done," he said simply. No sarcasm, no bullshitting.

Steve was taken aback. Usually Tony joked and made eye-rolling critiques about his paintings even though he liked them. This was unexpected.

"I...thank you," Steve said.

Tony was still looking at the painting and started to gesture with his hands. "I mean, I know I said red and yellow but you've given _depth_ to this, there's...I don't know - _anger_ and _frustration_ here. Kind of like if someone had blindfolded Francis Bacon and told him to finger paint. What's it called?"

Steve hesitated before answering and almost said something else but he knew that the name he had given to the canvas fit. "Unrequited."

Tony finally tore his gaze away from the piece and turned to Steve. "That says it all. It's stunning, Rogers. I almost don't want to send it to the Tokyo office." He sat on the couch and finished his coffee. "So where's Barnes?"

Steve took Tony's cup and went to get him a refill. "He's away for a little while. Visiting family."

"How does he feel knowing that you've painted this in honor of him?"

Steve went still at the coffee maker and then poured himself another cup too. "He doesn't know, obviously. That's why it's called Unrequited."

"Hmm. I thought as much. You planning on telling him?"

Steve sat down on the ratty old armchair that he and Bucky had found on the street a few years back, dragged to the apartment, huffed up three flights of stairs and cleaned up. "I wasn't planning on it but everyone else seems to think I ought to. Are you going to tell me I should?"

Tony swallowed a mouthful of coffee. "If it means that you produce work like that - " he threw a hand towards the painting, " - then no. Great artists suffer. That's why their stuff is so good. Look at Van Gogh." He caught Steve's indignant frown. "However, I know I'm your _only_ client so it would be pretty selfish of me to use your Sweet Valley High drama for personal gain. As far as I could always see, Barnes is right there with you. How the two of you haven't already fucked is beyond me." He drank the rest of his coffee in one long gulp and groaned. "What I wouldn't give for some vodka in this."

"What's stopping you?" Steve asked sulkily.

Tony got to his feet. "Because I'm an alcoholic and if I ever touch a drop again, Pepper will leave me. She's not into the whole self-destruction thing."

"Oh. I'm...I'm sorry. I didn't..." Steve stammered. Tony had never been this frank with him so this was a revelation of sorts. He'd always known that Tony was a heavy drinker but it had never crossed his mind that it was a far deeper problem, just putting it down to a rich kid with too much time on his hands and the means to do what he wanted at his disposal. Steve realized that he was so wrapped up in his own crap, he sometimes forgot that other people were trying to deal with theirs too.

Tony waved his hand dismissively but he had a couple of tells, one being that he put his left hand into his pocket when he was uncomfortable. "I go to AA, do what I have to. For her, more than myself. I don't like _me_ very much but I love Pepper more than anything." He put his sunglasses back on. "She's my Bucky," he said and Steve felt a pain in his heart. "I like you, Steve; you need to make yourself happy. Take a chance with Barnes, don't waste any more time."

Steve looked at him with such surprise and emotion that Tony turned away and grabbed his hat, making for the door and saying in a pinched voice, "Let me know when you're good to have the painting picked up. I'll send a courier over to package it. I'll pay you the usual way." Then he was out of the door before Steve could blink.

Steve quickly hurried and threw open the front door after him. "Tony," he shouted down the corridor before Stark had made it to the stairwell. Tony turned, one hand on the banister, waiting.

Steve wanted to say more to him: _If you ever want to talk, we should hang out more_. But instead he said, "Thank you."

Tony nodded and was gone.

Steve went back inside and leant against the door. He looked around the apartment, at the life he'd built with Bucky. He didn't want things to change because if he stayed living in this Schrödinger's Cat scenario of not knowing how Bucky felt about him either way, everything would be fine. Apart from Steve lying to himself day in day out that he could live this way. He breathed out through his nose and closed his eyes.

He had to tell Bucky.

***

_Buck,_

_I_ _have to tell you something and I apologize for the letter. It must seem weird me leaving you a letter when I'm in the same apartment and could just talk to you but this isn't the kind of thing I can tell you to your face. Mostly because I'm a coward and I'm terrified by how you may react. So a letter it is._

_I love you. I've loved you since the day we first spoke when I jumped off the jungle gym and broke my arm trying to be you. I've been in love with you since I was eleven years old. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for never having had the courage to tell you. I'm sorry for whatever happens next but I have to tell you. It's been eating away at me for the last sixteen years and I can't do it anymore._

_I love you and I want you and_

Steve made a frustrated noise and tore the piece of paper from the pad he had been writing on. This was terrible; he couldn't do it this way. The more he wrote, the more feeble it seemed. He had to _say_ the words but seeing them written down just looked pathetic. He screwed up the piece of paper and threw it in the trash. Then he thought better of it and threw it in the kitchen sink, rummaging in the odds-and-ends draw for the matches. He set fire to the half-finished letter and then hastily ran the tap, almost forgetting about the fire alarm that would set off the whole building. Steve grabbed the sodden clod of paper and took it to the bathroom where he angrily flushed it down the toilet. It took four goes.

***

Bucky had been away now for two weeks days and Steve didn't know how much more he could take. Life without Bucky was...it was _dull_. Bucky was fun and bright, he made Steve feel like himself. Without him, Steve just felt like an empty vessel, like the essence that made him _him_ belonged with Bucky. The thought terrified him: Who was he without Bucky? In desperation, he almost called Bucky one evening and told him he loved him but stopped himself at the last moment, pulling himself together. He couldn't do it that way.

Bucky had been texting him frequently to check in and tell him family anecdotes but hadn't called in over a week which just served to add to Steve's anxiety. Did he still want to live with Steve? Would he come back and want to move out? He was reassessing his life and there was nothing to say that he wasn't reassessing Steve too. He had started to wear his dad's dog tags again.

Steve was out getting coffee on his lunch break from work one afternoon, frustrated that the class he was teaching weren't engaging with the material and his mind was elsewhere as he stared at the board in the coffee shop, deciding what to get. After he'd ordered and was absently stirring in his sugar, someone stepped up close to him.

"Hi Steve." It was Natasha. She looked great as always; impeccable hair, immaculate clothes. She looked as though she was expecting him to be angry with her, jaw clenched, brow pinched slightly and although Steve _was_ angry at her, she wasn't with Bucky anymore which made seeing her sting less.

"Hi Nat. You look well."

Her shoulder's eased and Steve felt a little bad that she'd been so tense just to approach him. "How are you?"

"I've been better."

Natasha fiddled slightly with her own cup of coffee. "How's Bucky?"

"You haven't spoken to him?" Steve asked.

"No. I figured it was better to stay away for the time being."

Steve scratched his cheek. "He's gone home for a while. Said he needed time to think about his life." He couldn't keep the slight edge of bitterness from his voice.

Natasha shifted slightly, adjusting her purse strap on her shoulder. "I'm...I'm glad. It sounds like he's - "

"Did you tell him?" Steve said, cutting her off.

"Tell him what?" she asked.

"About my feelings for him."

Natasha's face hardened. "No. I told you it wasn't for me to tell."

"Well, what did you say to him to make him leave?" Steve asked, starting to feel a little frantic; Natasha was here and he could take out some of his frustrations on her. This was all driving him crazy. Never mind his art; _this_ was giving him a fucking ulcer.

"That's between me and Bucky. He obviously felt like he needed to take some time off to consider everything and I think you need to respect that. Just know that I didn't tell him anything about himself that wasn't true."

Steve glared at her for a moment and then picked up his work bag. "I have to go. I'll be late otherwise."

Natasha grabbed his arm as he passed. "I did what was best, Steve. Bucky wasn't being honest with himself when he was with me. He's...he's more honest with you. He always has been."

"What does that mean?" Steve asked, a little too loudly. A few people looked over at them.

Natasha let go of his arm. "That's up to Bucky."

Steve stared at her helplessly for a moment and then tried not to storm out of the coffee shop.

***

That evening he started to feel bad; he shouldn't have been so sharp with Nat; she had only done what she thought was right and even Bucky had agreed with her on the break-up. Steve was letting his own shit overflow into everything and it was contaminating all it came into contact with.

He watched Grease 2, hoping that it would perk him up but it wasn't as fun without Bucky singing Girl For All Seasons in a high pitched voice or ribbing Steve about how his first big male film crush had been Michael. Or just ribbing him for all-out liking Grease 2 in the first place. For the first time since Bucky had left, Steve felt a crushing despair and had no idea what to do.

*** 

Friday was Steve's one-to-one tutorial sessions with his students and it had been a pleasant day. He took the train home and as he was walking up the stairs to his apartment, considered getting some take-out to celebrate. He didn't see the pile of bags in the dark hallway until he almost tripped over them. His breath caught in his throat.

"Buck?" he called, glad that his voice didn't quiver.

A few seconds later, Bucky emerged from the hallway that led to their bedrooms and the bathroom. He stopped in the kitchen, a sheepish grin on his face. "Hey Steve."

Steve put his own bag down but stayed standing where he was. "You're back. You didn't say anything."

Bucky tucked his hands under his armpits. "Yeah, it was kind of a last minute thing." He was quiet for a moment, watching Steve nervously. "Did you miss me?" There was something in his voice that washed away all of the hesitation and doubt that Steve had been feeling these last few weeks: Bucky wasn't going anywhere.

"Of course I fucking missed you, moron," he said and they both moved at the same time, grabbing each other and hugging, laughing into each other's necks. Steve could have cried; Bucky was back and touching him and everything could be okay again.

Steve held Bucky from him and looked him up and down. "You look great. Time with the family was good?"

Bucky nodded, still smiling. "Yeah. I forget how much I miss those crazy bastards. Becca and Ethan practically still live at home." His eyes roamed over Steve. "You look like crap."

"Gee, thanks. Been a rough couple of weeks at work is all. So, did you get everything reassessed?"

Bucky chewed his lip and then shook his head. "Ah, we can talk about that another time. I'm starving; want to get take-out?"

Steve shrugged off his jacket and took off his tie. "Hell yes. Pizza?"

"How about Indian? There's a new place that delivers. I picked up a menu."

"As long as you're paying,"

Bucky pulled a six-pack out of one his bags and tossed one to Steve. "I suppose I could treat you."

And like that, things were back to normal. Steve thought _I can tell him soon. It doesn't have to be right now_. Right now, he just wanted his life back the way it was.

They ordered and settled down on the couch with their beers. Bucky snorted when he saw the DVD case for Grease 2 on the coffee table.

"Oh man, did it get so bad without me that you had to watch this?"

Steve snatched the case from him. "This is a severely underrated classic. Shut up."

Bucky laughed and sank back into the couch cushions with a content sigh. "Man, it's great to be back. Don't get me wrong, I needed a break but this is my home. It felt weird to be away for so long."

Steve picked at his cuticles. "Place wasn't the same without you."

Bucky turned to look at Steve for a moment, his smile turning soft. "Yeah?"

It was on Steve's lips to say something but he just threw Bucky a crooked grin. "Yeah, I could jerk off wherever I wanted."

"Ew!" Bucky exclaimed and made a show of checking out the couch cushions. "Am I sitting in a Grease 2 related stain?"

"That was when I was like thirteen! At least I didn't jerk off to Sports Illustrated like _some_ people. So _original_."

"At least I didn't grow a soul patch in my last year of college," Bucky threw back.

Steve snorted. "No, you just went straight for dreadlocks. So _classy_."

"You're never going to let me forget about that, are you?!"

"Such a great decision and they didn't smell _at all_."

Bucky squawked and lunged for Steve, beer slopping over both of them. Steve howled with laughter as they wrestled and finally called uncle when the door buzzer went. Their food had arrived.

Bucky leapt off of the couch and headed for the door, pointing at Steve as he went. "I'm so finding a photo of you with that soul patch and putting it on Facebook."

Steve straightened himself up, giggling and elated. He pushed the thought of telling Bucky how he felt to the back of his mind for now. He was happy to keep things as they were.

***

Things fell back into the easy passing of days, working, hanging out and being together in the only way Steve knew how to be with Bucky. He told himself he was working up the courage to reveal his feelings to his best friend but as each day ended, it seemed like it was getting harder and harder to do. Bucky seemed quieter, more thoughtful since he'd returned. He was still goofy and funny and charming but more than a few times, Steve caught him gazing beyond the TV or the dinner he was making, his mind elsewhere. Steve didn't ask him what he was thinking about, scared still that everything could come crashing down if he so much as breathed wrong.

One Saturday morning, Steve carefully slipped his dad's dog tags around his neck and took his good suit out of his closet. He dressed, heart heavy and checked the time; his train would be leaving in thirty minutes.

Bucky was sprawled on the couch in his pyjamas watching Iron Chef America. He whistled when he saw Steve in his suit. "Wow, what's the occasion?"

Steve brushed off his jacket and walked over to the coffee maker. "Dad's birthday," he said quietly.

Bucky's face fell. "Oh god, Steve. I totally forgot. Sorry."

"It's okay; I'm catching the train home. I'm meeting mom and Hank for lunch and then we're going to the cemetery." They did this every year and since Hank had come into their lives, he had joined them. Steve thought he would find it weird but he always liked the way that Hank would hold his mom's hand, supporting her on the one day she could manage to visit his father's grave.

Bucky got up off of the couch and walked over to him, making a face at his tie.

"Come here," he said softly. "You never do these right." He undid Steve's tie and adjusted his collar.

"What are you, the big knot tying expert?" Steve said, trying to inject some humor into his voice but failing.

Bucky saw the chain under Steve's collar and then started to re-knot his tie. "You still wear your dad's tags a lot?" Steve could feel the warmth from Bucky's body.

"Yeah, sometimes," Steve said. He tried not to stare at Bucky's lips.

"There," Bucky said and stepped back. "Much better."

Steve smiled thinly. "What would I ever do without you to tie my ties for me?"

Bucky met Steve's eyes and he looked at Steve the way he had just before he'd left for home: Like he was _seeing_ Steve. "You don't want to be late," he said.

"I don't know what time I'll be back. I'll see you later." Steve left the apartment, too many emotions to deal with clouding up his mind.

The train journey was uneventful and Steve just stared out of the window for most of it, lost in his own thoughts.

His mom and Hank met him at the station, happy to see him and they headed to their usual restaurant for lunch and all tried to keep the mood light as they ate. His mom was loving her reduced hours and seemed to be thriving.

"I can't keep up with her," Hank joked. "She seems to join a new group every week."

" _She_ is enjoying herself," Mrs Rogers said. "I have so much more energy."

"That didn't stop you from feeling guilty for cutting back though. I had to talk her down from upping her hours again for three months," Hank told Steve.

Steve laughed. "I'm glad you did."

"So how are you?" Hank asked him.

Steve swallowed the bite of waffle he'd just eaten. "Not bad. Work is keeping me busy."

"Any prospective boyfriends in the pipeline?" Mrs Rogers asked, a little grin on her face.

"Not at the moment," Steve said and caught his mom just before she was about to speak again, "and I don't want to hear all about so-and-so from your book group or Some Guy from spin class."

Hank threw back his head and laughed. "Oh boy, has he got your number." He jabbed Mrs Rogers in the side with a finger.

Mrs Roger threw her hands up defensively. "Fine. Is it so bad that I just want my son to be happy?"

Steve smiled and took one of Mrs Rogers's hands, kissing it. "I am happy, Mom."

Mrs Rogers hummed noncommittally. "You're going to have to convince me a little harder than that."

***

It was starting to get overcast by the time they reached the cemetery. They had stopped at a flower shop to buy a bouquet and as light as things had been at lunch, they were all a little quieter as they walked through the rows of headstones. His father's grave was at the end of the row. The grass around it wasn't too badly overgrown and he stood with Hank as his mom knelt down and carefully arranged the flowers.

"Hi Joe," she said softly. "Happy Birthday."

Steve knew the inscription on the headstone by heart but he read it again.

 

_Joseph David Rogers_

_1958 - 1991_

_Beloved husband and father_

_Gave his life for his country, never forgotten_

 

He felt tears prick his eyes. He often wondered what kind of man his father would be now, if he would like the man his son had become. Would he be proud? He hoped so. Steve felt Hank's hand on his shoulder, squeezing lightly. He placed his own hand over Hank's and didn't say anything. Mrs Rogers eventually stood and wiped her eyes. Steve pulled her into a hug.

"Thanks Stevie," she said, rubbing his back. "Thank you for always coming here. I know it's out of your way."

"Don't be silly. I wouldn't miss it," Steve said and kissed his mom on the cheek.

Mrs Rogers kissed Hank on the cheek. "Thank you, Hank."

Hank put his arm around Mrs Rogers's waist. "Any time, honey."

They made their way back to the car and drove Steve to the station.

"Are you sure you don't want to stay for the night? It's such a long way to come in one day," Mrs Rogers said.

Steve could have and he felt bad for not staying but he just wanted to be alone. "I really need to get back but Bucky and I are still coming up to Cape Cod in the summer."

Mrs Rogers held him and kissed him on the cheek. "I'm looking forward to it. It'll be nice to have my boys for a few weeks."

Hank gave Steve a crushing hug. "Your dad would be proud of you. _I'm_ proud of you."

Steve swallowed the lump in his throat. "Thanks, Hank. I needed to hear that."

They waved goodbye and Steve boarded his train. It seemed to take forever on the return journey and by the time he arrived back in New York, it was dark. He caught the subway back to Brooklyn, feeling drained. He spotted a familiar face waiting outside of the turnstiles.

"What are you doing here?" Steve asked, surprised.

Bucky shrugged and shoved his hands into his pockets. "Thought you might want some company. Go for a walk or something."

Steve had thought about nothing else but his father on the train ride home; he had things that belonged to his him and he thought of him often, but seeing his grave always made it all the more real for him, how his dad had fought and died in a war. It made him feel desperately sad. His father had died somewhere far from his home and family and Steve didn't want to go back to the apartment with that in his head. Bucky seemed to know that and Steve was grateful for the thought.

Steve nodded. "Thanks, Buck."

They left the station and Steve let Bucky take the lead. They walked the long way home.

"How are you doing?" Bucky asked.

"It never gets better. I didn't even know him but it never gets better. He died three days before the war ended. How shitty is that?" His voice cracked a little.

Bucky put his arm across Steve's shoulders. "I know, pal."

"I don't want to go home yet. I don't want to go home thinking about this." Steve let the tears fall. He had been holding back his feelings for his mom, wanting to be strong for her.

"Then we'll keep walking," Bucky said and they did.

***

The whole time Steve had been in love with Bucky, he had always thought that he had control over the situation. It would be up to him to tell Bucky, if he ever did. That was the one thing he could at least count on. He trusted the people who knew - Peggy, Scott, Tony - to not say anything. He had time to think about it, to find the right moment, to carefully consider what to say.

Or at least that's what he thought.

It was a normal Saturday night. Bucky had declined an offer from his work colleagues to go out for a drink and he and Steve were currently watching some British nature documentary about insects, a few beers already downed between them. It had been a nice evening and Steve was content.

"How long?" Bucky asked.

"How long what?" Steve said, taking a mouthful of beer and not taking his eyes off of the TV.

"How long have you been in love with me?"

Everything in Steve froze and he just continued to stare ahead. "W...what?"

"How long have you been in love with me," Bucky said. There was no accusation in his voice, no anger.

Steve resolutely stared at the TV. "I don't know what..." He didn't even sound convincing to himself.

Bucky reached over to the coffee table for the remote and turned off the TV.

"Steve," he said softly.

Steve finally turned towards him, ready to backtrack and deny but Bucky's face was gentle and Steve knew there was no point in trying to hide it any longer. He was so tired of hiding how he felt, tired of how it was making him hollow. He slumped in his seat. "Since always."

Bucky swallowed and his eyes were sad. "All this time?"

"I'm sorry," Steve whispered.

"Why are you apologizing?"

Steve gripped his beer bottle. This wasn't how he had planned on telling Bucky. It was happening too fast. It was out of his control. "Because now everything is ruined."

"Why would you think that?" Bucky asked and he sounded scared.

Steve put his beer down and rested his head in his hands. "How can it not be? Buck, I've...I've been in love with you for _sixteen_ years. How can this not change everything?"

"It _does_ change everything but you're talking as though this is just about you. It's about me too."

Steve stood up and paced. He wanted to leave the apartment and just run but he couldn't. It was out: The thing he'd kept so close to his heart for so long. "How long have you known?" he asked. "How I feel about you?"

Bucky shifted on the couch and watched him. "For sure? About a month."

Steve wiped his forehead. He was starting to sweat; in his mind, revealing his feelings to Bucky had been some romantic gesture, not this discussion that would have been more at home in one of his classes. "I guess I must seem like a complete idiot."

Bucky stood up too. "No, of course you don't. Look, would you just sit down for a minute and calm down?"

"I don't want to sit down," Steve said, letting his fear of losing Bucky get the better of him, his voice rising. True panic was setting in. "How can I calm down, don't tell me to calm down - "

"For fuck's sake, you stubborn bastard!" Bucky shouted, stunning Steve into silence. "Do you think I would ever had said anything to you if I didn't feel..." He stopped and put his hands on his hips, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. "Would you just sit down? Please?"

Steve numbly walked back to the couch and sat down. Bucky's words were ringing in his ears. _Do you think I would ever had said anything to you if I didn't feel_... He didn't want to hope though. He couldn't let himself.

Bucky sat down too and stared down at his hands, wringing them. "I...this is hard for me, okay? The last month has been tough; I've had to totally pick apart who I am and I'm just...I can't do it anymore."

"Can't do what?" Steve asked.

"Not be honest with myself. And you."

Steve let out a shuddery breath. "What does that mean?"

Bucky jiggled his knee and seemed to be psyching himself up. "When Nat broke up with me, she said some things that I didn't want to hear, I _really_ didn't want to hear but...they were all true. It was a bit of a shock because I thought I'd done such a good job of...hiding them but she saw everything. I had to get away to think about it all because it's the kind of stuff that can change everything between...between two best friends."

Steve dug his fingernails into his jeans, waiting for Bucky to continue.

Bucky didn't speak for a while, just continued to jiggle his leg.

"Please say something," Steve said, trying his best to keep the desperation out of his voice. They were both on the edge of something right now and he couldn't take it. "Buck, if you're feeling the same way about me that I feel about you, please tell me."

Bucky stood up and started to pace. "I always thought I knew who I was and the times I started to doubt it, I could deflect it. I never for a moment thought that you...you might have feelings for me. Or...or that I might have them for you."

Steve's breath caught in his throat. "Buck..."

Bucky ran both hands through his hair and when he spoke again, his voice was tight. "I always thought that if you were with someone, I wouldn't have to acknowledge it," he swallowed. "You've always known who you were. You came out."

"Are you...are you gay?" Steve asked.

Bucky slowly walked back to the couch and sat down. "I don't..." He closed his eyes. "It's...it's only ever been you."

Steve's heart was pounding. "Why didn't you ever say anything?" he asked softly.

"Remember how angry I got with you at the prom when you came out to me? How could I say anything after that without sounding like a huge hypocrite?" Bucky's voice was stricken. "Nat knew for a long time, I think. It was one of the reasons she was always trying to get me to make a commitment. When we were breaking up, she...she told me I'd built my life around you and that I had to acknowledge that there was obviously something deeper there. That's why I went home. I needed...I needed to look at myself. At...at us. Things suddenly became obvious with how you feel about me because...you've built your life around me too."

Steve felt like he was falling. He had so many questions but he couldn't think clearly enough to form them. He'd never seen Bucky look so unsure about himself; all this time and he'd been struggling with his own feelings for Steve. It was everything he'd always wanted but he didn't know what to do with it now it was happening. He took a deep breath.

"I've been in love with you for so long, I don't know anything else. I've pushed people away because they weren't you. I've done everything I could to keep you in my life and I've never once regretted it, no matter how much it hurt."

Bucky's face crumpled. "I'm so fucking sorry, Steve. I'm so sorry I made you hurt for so long."

Steve hesitated but took Bucky's hand. "You were worth every second."

Bucky's breath hitched and he looked down at their hands. "That time in college when I kissed you, I thought I'd ruined everything."

Steve blinked. "You...wait, you _remember_ that?" He let go of Bucky's hand, his voice hard. Cold anger started to make a rock in his stomach.

Bucky stammered. "I...yes but Steve, there's a reason I never - "

"You _remember_ doing that and you played dumb?" Steve stood up, hands fisted at his sides, his eyes hot. "Do you have any idea what that kiss _did_ to me? It destroyed me."

"Steve, please," Bucky said quickly, standing up. "I didn't remember when I woke up but when I was on the train home to see Ethan in the hospital I started to remember things from the night before. I was so drunk I...you never said anything! I thought that if I brought it up, it would make things weird between us so I didn't..." he trailed off, realizing how weak that all sounded.

Steve stepped back from him. "How could you do that to me? I kissed you back, I didn't push you away at first. I _wanted_ it." He felt sick.

"But you never said anything either! How could I have known how much it meant to you?" Bucky said desperately. "You never told me, you never mentioned it so I just thought it was a mistake. We were both drunk."

Steve shook his head. " _You_ were drunk. How could you..." The tears that started to run down his cheeks were hot, burning. He started towards his room, needing space. The air he was breathing was suddenly cloying, hurting his chest. He felt like he was having an asthma attack.

"Steve, wait! Please," Bucky called.

"Leave me alone!" Steve shouted and slammed his bedroom door behind him, sobbing. He never thought Bucky would ever do something like this to him.

***

Steve lay in bed for hours, his brain going over everything that had happened that evening. Bucky had feelings for him, may have done for almost as long as Steve had for him. He closed his eyes; all of this time, they had been hiding from each other in plain sight. He could almost have laughed but it wasn't funny; all of this pain could have been avoided. His anger had ebbed and now he wasn't sure what to do. That kiss in college could have been the catalyst for them, could have been something. He rolled onto his side, feeling sick for all that time lost.

There was a soft knock on his bedroom door and his chest felt tight.

"Yeah?" he said, all of the fight gone out of him. He switched on his bedside lamp.

Bucky opened the door. He was in a t-shirt and pyjama pants, his hair dishevelled as if he'd been tossing and turning too. He stepped into Steve's room and closed the door, leaning against it. They looked at each other for a few moments, both unsure yet certain. Steve could feel it.

"Can I?" Bucky asked and Steve knew what he meant. He pulled the covers back and Bucky walked over and crawled into Steve's bed. He lay his head on the other pillow facing Steve and it was like staring into a mirror: the uncertainty and fear in his eyes were the same that Steve could feel in his own.

"You terrify me, you know that?" Bucky said quietly. Steve's brow furrowed in confusion but Bucky shook his head gently, asking him not to say anything. "From the day I first met you, you've terrified me. The fact that you broke your arm trying to be like me...it scared the _shit_ out of me. That someone could look at me and think "I want to be like him." I knew I had to be your friend from that moment on because no-one had ever done anything like that because of me and I can remember thinking, "this guy is special." And you _are_ special. You're brave and beautiful, Steve. The bravest person I've ever known. I can't bear to think of my life without you because you've made _me_ a better person just by being in my life and...and I feel sick to my stomach to think that I've wrecked it all. That kiss in college...the only other thing I remembered was that you pushed me away and I when I was on the train home I thought, "well, he doesn't want me that way. That's fine. I can live with that if I can just hold onto him in every other way." So that's what I've done. I've been a coward for so long. I tried to be with other people and ignore you in that way but...I can't anymore. I can't."

Bucky closed his eyes for a few seconds, gathering himself. When he opened them, he raised his hand and gently brushed Steve's hair back from his face, his hand resting on Steve's cheek.

"I love you, Steve."

Steve inhaled sharply and all the years of wanting Bucky, the wall he'd built to keep it contained came crashing down at last and it was like he was finally breathing for the first time in sixteen years. "I love you too. So fucking much."

Bucky's eyes filled with tears and he made a small noise of relief. He leaned in and kissed Steve on the lips, so softly that Steve almost couldn't feel it. He pulled away, his nose an inch from Steve's. "God, you're so beautiful. You have no idea."

Steve brought his hand to Bucky's neck, stroking the line of his throat with his thumb; he'd never touched him like this and he wanted as much of it as he could. "I want you. I've wanted you forever."

Bucky smiled. "You've had me since the day you jumped from the jungle gym. I was always yours."

Steve couldn't hold back any longer and he pulled Bucky to him, kissing him like he'd wanted to for years, whimpering when Bucky's lips tasted as good as he always dreamed they would. Bucky kissed him back, his arm slipping around Steve's waist under the covers and their legs tangled together, the two of them getting as close as they could, closer than they'd ever been. Steve broke the kiss to mouth at Bucky's jaw and neck. Bucky made a noise Steve had never heard before - at least not with him - and pulled back, propping himself on one elbow to gaze down at his best friend. Bucky looked dazed.

"Part of me was worried that this would be weird," Bucky said. He grinned and leaned up to kiss Steve again. "It isn't."

Steve smiled softly and stared down at him. "You have no idea what this means to me."

"I'm sorry I never said anything," Bucky whispered.

Steve sighed and ran his fingers gently through Bucky's short brown hair. "You keep telling me how brave I am but I never told you how I felt either."

"I guess we were both too worried about ruining this," Bucky said.

Steve rested his head on Bucky's shoulder. "I just couldn't think that I could lose you."

Bucky's arms wrapped around him and he kissed Steve's temple. "Me too. For the record though: Now that I have you, I don't think I can let you go."

Steve smiled again raised his head. "You don't ever have to. I was always yours too."

They kissed slow and deep, taking their time and exploring, figuring each other out. They knew each well but this was a whole new level of intimacy and they took their time, occasionally stopping to laugh when teeth clicked together or one of them made an unintentionally funny noise. It felt good to be able to laugh hysterically, gripping one another and then kiss again, smiling into each other. They made no attempt to do anything more than kiss; there was time to take things to the next level. For now, all Steve wanted was Bucky's lips on his.

Their kisses became sleepier and Steve finally took the initiative and rolled away, turning off his bedside lamp. Bucky hummed happily when Steve snuggled back against him

They lay in the darkness for a little while holding each other and Steve savored the feeling of Bucky's breath against his neck.

"Buck?" Steve asked quietly.

"Yeah?"

"Do you believe in soulmates?"

Bucky nuzzled against Steve's neck. "Of course I do. We're the _definition_ of soulmates."

Steve's heart soared and he smiled, stroking his hand up and down Bucky's back. "You're damn right."

***

Steve awoke to the sound of snoring. He turned and Bucky was lying next to him, sprawled on his back, arms above his head and mouth open. Steve bit his lip held back a laugh, resting his head on his arms and just taking the time to drink in this moment: Bucky was _his_. After all of these years, he was waking up next to him. It overwhelmed him for a moment and his throat felt tight and hot. It wasn't a dream. To prove it to himself he carefully reached out and touched Bucky's face. He had a couple of days worth of stubble and Steve grinned; that was too good a detail to end up in a dream. Bucky stirred and his snoring tapered off. He grunted and rolled over.

Steve chuckled and scooted up to him, spooning against Bucky and kissing the back of his neck. Bucky's breathing hitched and he let out a surprised noise.

"Hey," Steve said softly.

Bucky turned over. "Morning," he said, a huge grin spreading across his face. He blinked sleepily. "Wow, your bed hair is amazing."

Steve snorted. "Look who's talking. You look like the guy from Eraserhead."

"Hey, I _like_ that film."

"Well, I assumed so, given the freaky hair."

Bucky squawked and threw himself at Steve, messing up his hair with both hands. Steve shrieked and tried to roll off the bed but they ended up wrestling and laughing, the bed covers scrunching beneath them. Bucky managed to grab both of Steve's wrists and pinned him to the bed, smiling down at him as he panted.

"Hi," he said breathlessly.

Steve smiled back shyly. "Hi."

Bucky bit his lip. "Are you still in with this? I mean...us."

"Two hundred percent," Steve said, not breaking eye contact. "God, I could stare into those eyes forever," he murmured dreamily, almost not realizing that he'd said it out loud.

Bucky burst out laughing. "Oh wow."

"Shut up," Steve said petulantly. He hooked his leg around Bucky's thigh and flipped them over. Bucky cried out surprised as Steve pinned him to the bed instead. "I get to say things like that now. I've waited a long time to be able to say them."

Bucky's face softened. "You have. So tell me some more."

Steve settled on his side next to Bucky. "I...um," he could feel his face heating up.

Bucky took Steve's hand and kissed it. "Okay, I'll go. Your smile, especially when you smile at me, makes me feel like the most important person on Earth."

Steve hadn't been expecting that. "Buck..."

"You've always made me feel like the most important person," Bucky said and kissed Steve gently. "I'm sorry if I never made you feel the same."

Steve rubbed his nose against Bucky's. "We need to stop apologizing for the past. We have this now and whatever happened before, no matter however many years back, we have to think that it got us here."

He pulled Bucky into a heated kiss and they stayed like that for a while. Steve ran his hand down Bucky's side and was met with a very rewarding noise.

"Steve," Bucky gasped into his mouth. "Can I...I hate to stop this but..."

Steve pulled away and rested his hand on Bucky's chest. "Everything okay?"

Bucky gave him a lopsided smile. "Everything's fine, just...can we take our time with this? I mean, I've never...y'know...with a _guy_ before."

Steve raised his eyebrows. "I never thought I'd see the day when Bucky Barnes was coy about sex. I always thought _I_ was the blushing virgin in this friendship."

Bucky punched him on the upper arm. "Don't be a dick! I'm serious; I want this to be right because it's _you_."

Steve thought all of his emotions had been laid bare in the last day but hearing Bucky say that brought out a few new ones. He cupped Bucky's face in his hands and kissed him gently. "It _will_ be right, when the time comes. I'm happy to drag this out - " he mouthed at Bucky's jaw again and smiled when Bucky made the noise that Steve already knew was going to drive him crazy forever, " - for as long as I can."

Bucky chuffed into Steve's ear. "You're such a jerk."

Steve grinned and did it again. "I know."

***

They didn't emerge from Steve's room until after 3pm and decided to just go out for a late lunch and then write off the rest of the day watching movies and making out. Steve was pulling his jacket on and trying to remember where he'd left his wallet. Bucky was on the couch putting on his sneakers.

"Oh, a packet came for you yesterday from Stark Industries," Bucky said. "I totally forgot about it. It's on top of the fridge."

Steve looked and found it. It was a large hard backed envelope. He recognized Tony's scrappy handwriting on the front. He opened it and pulled out a magazine called Financial Business News. There was a post-it note on the front.

_Don't be surprised if you start getting more enquiries for artwork but just remember that I'm your number one client. T._

Steve frowned in confusion. One of the pages was marked and he flipped to it, completely shocked to find his painting for Tony spread out before him. _Stark Industries Tokyo Wows Visitors With New Lobby Art_ read the headline. Steve spluttered and Bucky looked up from his sneakers.

"What's up?"

Steve scanned the article. _Mr Stark, known for commissioning relatively unheard of artists, impresses with his keen eye for talent yet again. Unrequited by Steven Grant Rogers, a Brooklyn-based painter, dominates the lobby of the Stark building in Shinjuku. "Clients ask about it constantly," said Mr Nobu Takagi, head of the_ _Tokyo_ _office. "We're very proud."_

"Holy shit!" Bucky exclaimed and Steve jumped. He hadn't even heard Bucky come over. " _That's_ the painting you were working on?"

"Uh, yeah," Steve said and passed the magazine to Bucky.

He watched as Bucky's face changed from excited to something else as he read the name of the painting. He looked up at Steve, his eyes pained.

" _Unrequited_?"

Steve shrugged a little and fixed his eyes on the kitchen floor. "At the time, I thought...it could never be."

Bucky put the magazine down on the kitchen counter and pulled Steve to him, tilting his chin up. His eyes were so blue and sincere. "From now on, I'm going to make sure you never feel that way again. I love you."

Steve sank into Bucky's arms, part of him still convinced that this was a dream. "I love you, too."

***

Steve beamed as Peggy answered the Skype call and her face filled the screen. She looked fantastic with her impeccable retro hairstyle and that wonderful red lipstick she always wore. "Hi Peg! Damn, it's good to see you!"

Peggy laughed. "Very much likewise, my darling! You look _fantastic_ , Steve. Did you get new glasses?"

"A while ago. You look gorgeous. I miss you a lot."

Peggy smiled. "I miss you too. But honestly, you look radiant." She gasped and clapped her hands together. "You're seeing someone! I know that look."

Steve groaned. "Can't we at least talk about the weather and other shit before we get into that? Some small talk would be nice." He actually couldn't wait to tell her but wanted to drag it out a bit. "How's the weather in England? Have you eaten any jellied eels lately? I do _not_ want to try jellied eels."

"I cannot believe you want to make me talk about the weather and jellied eels, Steven," she said sharply and Steve laughed.

He ran his hand nervously through his hair. "Okay fine, yes. I'm seeing someone."

"Well, tell me about him! What's his name?"

"Um, Bucky." Steve glanced into his laptop camera.

Peggy's mouth closed with a snap. "Bucky? As in... _your_ Bucky?"

Steve smiled. _His_ _Bucky_. "Yes. My Bucky."

"He feels the same way about you?"

"Has done for a while." Steve was suddenly a little nervous; Peggy could still do that to him.

She was quiet for a moment and looked him in the eyes, as best she could through her laptop. "He's serious about this?" she asked.

"Yes," Steve replied. "It's for real, Peggy."

Peggy sighed and sat back on her couch, folding her arms. "So you've been pining for each other for years, is that it?"

Steve nodded. "Pretty much."

"You do realize that this all very clichéd? Like a bad rom-com but without the comedy?" she groaned.

"Gee, if I didn't know any better, I'd think you were making fun of me."

Peggy's mouth curled into a wicked smile. "Never." Her smile softened. "I can't deny that you look...you look _happy_ , Steve."

"I am happy," he said quietly. "Happier than I have been in...forever."

"Then you deserve it. I love you to bits."

Steve smiled. "I love you too."

Peggy's face became stern. "Make sure you tell Bucky that if he _ever_ hurts you, I will hunt him down and make him pay. I'm serious."

"Believe me, I don't think that's going to happen but thanks, Peggy. For always having my back."

"My absolute pleasure, my darling." They smiled at each other and Steve thought for the millionth time just how lucky he was to have Peggy in his life.

"So, how's the weather?" he asked.

***

The next week was everything Steve had ever wanted; his life was the same but now Bucky slept in his bed every night. He got to wake up to him in the mornings and he knew he would never get fed up of the sight. Bucky seemed to feel the same and Steve had woken one morning to find Bucky watching him, a tender smile on his face.

"You have no idea how hard it's been to have to get out of bed in the mornings," he said, kissing Steve softly. "I just want to stay here and stare at you."

"Just stare at me?" Steve had asked, his eyes bright with mischief.

Bucky apparently saw that as a challenge to kiss Steve into breathlessness and they were both late for work.

***

Steve was on his way home from the university one afternoon and stopped by the grocery store to pick up some food for dinner. He wanted to make something nice for dinner and thought he'd give beef stroganoff a go. He'd never cooked it before but he enjoyed a challenge.

He had been cooking for nearly an hour when the front door opened. Bucky kicked off his shoes in the hallway with a groan and then appeared, smiling wide and bright when he saw Steve.

"Hey," he said and stepped into the kitchen. He put his hand on Steve's waist and kissed him. "You're always a sight for sore eyes."

Steve was rendered speechless for a moment and he stopped chopping the mushrooms in front of him. He must have had a strange expression on his face because Bucky looked concerned.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing," Steve said, his voice a little choked. "It's...I used to have this fantasy that you would come home from work and do exactly what you just did."

Bucky slid his other arm around Steve's waist. He fixed his eyes on Steve's mouth. "I was on the subway after work, just sitting there and watching the handrails sway when I realized something: In all the years we've lived together, no matter if I had a good day or bad day, coming home has always been the best thing because you're here. Whenever Nat asked me to move in with her, I knew I couldn't. Because then I wouldn't be coming home to you." He met Steve's eyes, that _Bucky_ smile on his face.

Steve smiled back, a little teary. "We're a pair of dumbasses."

Bucky chuffed and brushed his lips against Steve's. "Speak for yourself." He pulled Steve to him and they kissed, pressed against the kitchen counter. "Dinner's burning," Bucky managed to mumble, mouthing Steve's neck.

"Screw dinner," Steve mumbled back, smiling when Bucky laughed into his mouth.

***

Steve's book was finally, _finally_ finished and ready to go to print. Months of editing, proof reading and even _more_ proof reading were over and he giddily texted Bucky as his students filed out of the lecture hall. He had just sent in a proposal for another book and his publisher was pretty happy to discuss it. Steve was a glutton for punishment; he should really take a break, especially as he was seriously considering some of the commission offers he'd had since his painting for Tony appeared in that magazine, but he couldn't help himself - he was buzzing with energy.

It was past 7pm when he finally got home. The lights were dim and he squinted his way to the kitchen and stopped. Bucky was sitting at their small dining table which was set up with candles and plates, ready for a meal.

"What's all this?" Steve asked, dropping his bag and coat in a heap on the floor.

Bucky stood, a soft smile on his face. "Congratulations on the book." He reached under the table and pulled out a huge bag of take-out from Steve's favorite Thai place and a couple of bottles of beer.

Steve laughed and walked over to Bucky, kissing him on the cheek. "Thank you. This is lovely."

"Well, I'm very proud. I get to tell people that my boyfriend is a published writer _and_ a hot-shot artist. They're very impressed which makes me feel all big and shit."

Steve bit his lip. "I'll never get used to being called that. Your boyfriend."

Bucky put the take-out on the table and wrapped his arms around Steve's neck. "You're my boyfriend, my best friend, my soulmate," he said. "You're...everything."

Steve swallowed hard and pressed his forehead to Bucky's. "Come to bed with me?" he asked quietly.

Bucky's breath hitched and he pulled back a little, meeting Steve's eyes. "I'm...a little nervous."

"You don't have to be nervous," Steve said, cupping Bucky's face and gently rubbing his cheek with his thumb. "I know you've never been with a guy before but..."

Bucky shook his head. "It's not that. I mean, it's _us_ , Steve."

Steve knew what he meant: It was the years of friendship between them and now they were about to take an even bigger, more intimate step.

"I want you, Buck," was all Steve could say. "I love you and I want you."

Bucky chewed on his lip and nodded, letting Steve lead him to his bedroom. They stood together, both a little scared now that this was really happening. Steve just started to undress Bucky between soft kisses and Bucky relaxed a little and did the same to Steve and suddenly, it wasn't scary anymore. They smiled at each other when they were down to their underwear, standing chest to chest.

"Just promise me something," Bucky said quietly, running his hand down Steve's side and hooking his thumb in the waistband of Steve's boxer briefs.

"What?" Steve asked, voice soft, his own hand at the small of Bucky's back, rubbing in slow little circles.

"Don't think about the guy from Grease 2 while we're doing this."

Steve groaned and pushed him, laughing, onto the bed. "Asshole." He climbed onto the bed and crawled over Bucky, staring down at him, drinking in the sight of his body. Bucky's grin started to fade and he kissed Steve hard, pulling him down.

It was nothing and everything like Steve had ever wanted. Getting to touch Bucky's body and make him whimper, unable to hold back his own sounds when Bucky touched him, feeling how hard Bucky clutched at his shoulders as they moved together. Nothing could have prepared him for seeing Bucky's face as he came and Steve was overwhelmed all over again, having to focus on everything to stop it from feeling like a dream.

"Oh my god, Buck," he gasped and brushed the damp hair from Bucky's forehead.

Bucky's eyes were closed and he was breathing heavily. He opened his eyes and blinked, a little spaced out. "What?" he asked, slurring slightly.

Steve smiled. "That was... you looked fucking _incredible_." He buried his face in Bucky's neck.

Bucky ran his hand lazily down Steve's back. "Did you finish? I kind of lost track of everything."

Steve nodded numbly. "Oh, hell yes."

Bucky laughed softly and covered his eyes with one hand.

Steve managed to gather himself and rolled off of Bucky slightly, resting his head on the pillow. "So how was it?" He ran one finger lightly across Bucky's chest.

"It was...wow, it was _different_."

"Different good?" Steve asked.

Bucky turned to him, a dopey smile on his face. "Very good. Extremely good."

Steve smiled and kissed him. They were both exhausted and sweaty but he didn't care. Bucky hummed contentedly as Steve alternated between kisses and gentle strokes up and down his throat and across his collarbone before resting his head on Bucky's shoulder and curling around him.

"Well," Bucky said when he'd recovered enough, raking his fingers gently through Steve's hair, "our friendship just took an interesting turn."

Steve chuckled. "Yep. I guess there's no going back now."

"I wouldn't want to," Bucky said and took Steve's hand, threading their fingers together.

Steve squeezed Bucky's hand, afraid he might cry if he spoke. He closed his eyes and moved his head to Bucky's chest, listening to his heartbeat.

"Everything okay?" Bucky asked softly.

Steve took a shuddery breath. "Very okay."

They lay together for a while, their sweat cooling, holding each other before Bucky finally stirred.

"What say we have a quick shower, heat up the take-out, drink some beer and watch some bad TV?"

Steve raised his head and grinned; he and Bucky would always be okay. Their years of friendship were the foundation for this next stage of their relationship and some things would never change for them. Sex hadn't changed anything, only cemented the fact that they could have this new intimacy and be happy together.

"Sounds like a plan," Steve said and let Bucky lead him to the bathroom.

***

School finished for the summer and Steve and Bucky went to Cape Cod to stay with Mrs Rogers and Hank. Telling his mom that he and Bucky were together had been less awkward than he thought, with both her and Hank surprisingly happy that they were now a couple. Bucky's family had been a little more shocked at the news. Well, everyone except Becca.

They had visited the Barneses one weekend and had dropped the bombshell just before a family barbeque. Bucky's parents were slightly taken aback that their son suddenly had a boyfriend. Not only that, but with the boy who had been his best friend for years.

"I think it's great," Becca had said, sitting with them both in the treehouse later that night.

They had pilfered a couple of six packs after Bucky's parents had gone to bed and in a fit of nostalgia, the three of them had climbed up the big tree in the backyard and squeezed into the treehouse which had seen better days.

"Yeah?" Bucky had said, snuggling closer to Steve.

"Yeah. You two were made for each other. I always thought so, even when you were younger."

Bucky had sighed. "I don't think Mom and Dad are thrilled."

"They'll get used to the idea of the two of you. Give them time."

"What about Ethan?" Steve had asked. Ethan had been at his father's house for the weekend. Dylan had finally come around, years later, and wanted a relationship with his son. Becca had had every reason to tell him to fuck off but had put Ethan first and things were starting to mend a little.

"He'll be happy. He's a lot more forward thinking than people give him credit for. He's still a little shit and a pain in my ass though."

In Cape Cod, they had more time to spend with each other and explore their relationship. They went on car trips to little port towns with Mrs Rogers and went fishing with Hank but had days to themselves where it was just the two of them, walking for miles along the coastline or staying in bed all day having sex when Mrs Rogers and Hank were out in the boat. They were happy.

Steve sent Natasha a text apologizing for how he'd acted that day in the coffee shop. It was long overdue and he didn't know if Nat would text him back but it felt it was worth a try. He told her how right she had been, not going any further in the hopes that she and Bucky could mend their rift somehow and that this might be the first step towards that.

One evening, they went for a walk along the beach to watch the sunset before dinner. It was warm with a slight breeze on the air and they'd left their sneakers behind, walking barefoot in the surf, holding hands.

"This has been so great," Bucky said. "I love it here."

"Maybe we could come up for a weekend in the Autumn. Just the two of us," Steve said. "Hank gave me a spare key and told me I could come up whenever I wanted."

Bucky grinned. "That would be great. Going for walks in the cold and then warming each other up when we got back." He smirked dirtily.

Steve laughed and shoved him. "It that all you think about?"

Bucky grabbed Steve's hand and pulled him close. "Can you blame me? You're pretty incredible in bed."

"Well, I _have_ had more practise with boys than you have." Steve kissed him on the cheek.

Bucky put his hand on the back of Steve's neck, stroking tenderly. "You're just incredible, full stop."

Steve decided now was the right time to do what he'd been thinking about for a while and put his hand into the pockets of his shorts. "I want to give you something," he said softly. He pulled out his dad's dog tags.

Bucky watched as he took one of the tags off of the chain. "Steve..."

"I want you to have this." He pressed the tag into Bucky's hand.

"Steve...but...these are so important to you," Bucky stuttered, his eyes sad and overwhelmed in equal measure.

"I know, but so are you," Steve said quietly.

Bucky ran his thumb over the raised letters on the tag. "I'll keep it safe. I wish I could have met your dad. He'd be so proud of you, Steve. _I'm_ proud of you. Every single day."

Steve wiped away a tear that had started to roll down his cheek. "I'm going to marry you one day, Bucky Barnes."

A slow smile spread across Bucky's face and he brought his lips to Steve's. "You're damn right."

They stood there for a long time, kissing softly with their fingers interlaced, letting the surf wash over their feet as the sun set.

Two best friends, boyfriends and soulmates, together at last.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thank you to everyone who has followed this fic and commented or left kudos - it's much appreciated! I've really really enjoyed writing this one. It's been great getting back into a multi-chapter story and I'm happy that so many people have been enjoying it. I hope the last chapter was worth it!
> 
> Apologies for typos - things have been very busy so I haven't had as much time to be a meticulous as I'd like and will be correcting things as I go. I just wanted to be able to get this posted!
> 
> Next fic will be a one-shot :)

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I know I said my last fic might be my last fic for a while, but I had this and thought I'd start a multi-chapter fic that I can update (hopefully) when things get busy instead of sitting on it and making it into one long one. Additional tags will be added chapter to chapter so keep an eye out!
> 
> Stuff mentioned
> 
> Ghost World by Daniel Clowes and Black Hole by Charles Burns: I actually love both of these comics and would highly recommend them. They both deal with some heavy subject matter but are worth a read. Black Hole is especially disturbing and brilliant - one of my favourite horror comics of all time.
> 
> Museum of Terror by Junji Ito: Awesome short horror comics by Japanese writer and artist Junji Ito. Twisted and freaky. Check out Uzumaki too.
> 
> Goosebumps: I was a little too old for Goosebumps when they started to get popular but I read all of R.L Stine's Point Horror books and still genuinely enjoy a few of them!


End file.
